The Magnificent Ones
by Isclanel
Summary: AU. Magnus Bane is an A-list, Oscar-winning actor. Alec Lightwood is an Olympic speed skater. Their lives are crazy enough, but after a chance collision of their worlds, they soon find themselves in a whirlwind neither of them had ever seen coming.
1. Prologue - Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The characters are based on those created by the lovely Cassandra Clare. Everything else is entirely of my own crazed imaginings._

* * *

_February 22, 2009_

The lights that nearly blinded him were nothing compared to the deafening roar of applause as he ascended the stage. In a blur, a slim figure handed him the golden statuette, and he turned to face the crowd.

Eyes widening at the rows upon rows of clapping and cheering people, Magnus Bane took a deep breath before he began: "Well, I see all that campaigning paid off!"

The crowd shook with laughter, still continuing their standing ovation and delighting in his usual teasing nature.

"In all honesty, though, I can't begin to describe how deeply thankful I am." He was, too.

He cleared his throat, "I'd like to thank the Academy for this wonderful honour. I feel as if I've worked towards this moment for my whole life. Thank you to the entire cast and crew of _Downtrodden_, such a fabulous team of talented people that deserve everything in the world and made each day of work an absolute joy."

"Thank you to my best friend and the best manager in the world, Jocelyn, without whom I wouldn't have been able to make any of those early morning shoots!"

He caught a glimpse of her auburn hair in the first row to his left, laughing and smiling brilliantly next to a faceless seat-filler.

"Thank you Luke, for taking me to that first audition ten years ago—I think we can agree now that we've both gotten so far since that day." Magnus could only imagine the director's soft grin, as he couldn't spot him in the crowd.

"And finally, I'd like to to thank all my many, adoring fans, both of them"—hoots of laughter erupted from the audience—"for all their endless support." He smiled then, glancing down at the little golden man in his hand. "Being able to work with so many talented people, being able to do something I _love_..."

A light by the teleprompter began blinking red, telling him to wrap it up.

"This job, it's... _magnificent. _Thank you again, lovelies!"

As he turned around with his back to the cheering mass of people, he glanced at the handsome stagehand showing him backstage. Magnus caught his chestnut eyes, was thrilled to see the young man blush, and dismissed the fleeting thought that he'd prefer pupils ringed with the colour of the ocean. He had just won his first Oscar. Tonight, he would celebrate.

He dropped a glittering wink before striding out to the press.

* * *

_September 12, 2009_

Breath coming out in short, deep breaths, his right leg twitched once as he heard the loud _CLAP _signalling the start of the race. In a shot he was off like a bullet, tearing around the first bend in just a few seconds. The second bend came quickly, and after clearing it, he felt _it_, the _rush_.

There was nothing he loved more than this swiftness of blade on ice, propelling him forward in a controlled frenzy. The arena and the crowd faded into whiteness, the three other bodies on the ice becoming nothing but dark shadows. All that mattered was the swift shearing noise of his skates as—_left, right, left, right—_his fingertips skimmed the ice during a smooth turn. He cleared the next bend deftly, breaking out into a grin as he approached, rounded the final one and caught sight of the finish line up ahead. Alec Lightwood's path to the Olympics was straight and clear.

Really, he shouldn't have been too worried about the Trials, especially with the longer races. Yesterday, he had rocketed past the other Americans "without even breaking a sweat", in the words of his father. But the longer races weren't his weakness, and it was this, the 500m, that had always worried him. That is, until he had trained and trained for four years ever since Turin, after which he caught international attention in Vienna where he won Gold and broke the World Record for the 500m at the World Short Track Speed Skating Championships this past March.

Alec crossed the finish line and slowed down to resting speed, a wide grin breaking out on his face.

Surely, this would be his year.

* * *

**Part One: Toronto**

_September 14, 2009_

The grey slabs of runway disappeared once the plane tipped up and soared towards the clouds. Alec leaned back in his seat, knowing that he had just over an hour to try and catch a nap before they landed again. Just as he was about to close his eyes, however, a shrill cry interrupted him.

"That is the last time I _ever _try to put on eyeliner in an airplane!"

Alec groaned and glanced at the dark eyes across the aisle, silently cursing the fact that all the jet's seats were inwardly-facing. "Isabelle, takeoff is hardly the time to do your makeup."

His sister huffed at the compact mirror in her hand, dabbing at her left eye with a tissue before stowing her makeup kit away and pulling out her laptop. "But see," she pointed at her eye, "it still turned out nicely, and now I have more time for other things." On the open screen, the flight's Wi-Fi login screen popped up. "Any idea what the password is?"

"They password-protect their Wi-Fi?" Alec asked in honest curiosity. "Nobody would use it except us."

Isabelle tried typing something in and scowled when an error message appeared. "I'm asking Mom and Dad if they know," she said, standing up and walking to the back cabin where their parents were seated.

Alec watched her go before facing forward again. He wished the Penhallows could have invested in some foldaway beds for their fleet of private jets. Then again, they actually owned private jets, and had generously allowed Alec and his family to use one on their trip from New York to Michigan, and now to Toronto.

"The flight's not that long," a voice piped up. Alec turned and saw Clary Fray in the seat next to Isabelle's vacant one, staring nervously out of the window. She was playing with her hair, a nervous habit that Alec had noticed in her since she all but became a permanent fixture in their life. _All those years_, _and she still hasn't gotten used to flying._

He shouldn't have been comparing them, really. Clary had only started travelling vigorously about four years ago, when she was fifteen and officially became Jace's partner for pairs. Three World Figure Skating Championships later, and she and Jace were three-time medallists with two Silvers and one Gold, America's favourite couple to win at Vancouver. It was their first Olympics together, and although Clary was nervous, he knew that Jace was more than confident in their chances.

He turned to the seat beside him and saw his adopted brother already scrolling through his phone with one hand, the other stretched across the aisle to hold Clary's hand. Alec saw the reassuring circles he was tracing on it with his thumb, and with a sharp twinge he remembered how as a young teenager he had once hoped for that kind of relationship. _Not anymore, _he thought.

"Hey, Alec."

Alec looked up and locked eyes with Jace.

"Shouldn't Superstar be getting his beauty rest?" his brother asked, smirking.

Alec ignored the use of his infamous nickname. "Like Clary said, it's not a long flight. I'll have time to nap at the condo before we go to dinner."

"I doubt you'll have time for that." Isabelle strode back into their cabin and sat down. "Dad just told me how he wants at least four hours training before we head downtown. Oh, and the password's 'USTEAMNUMBERONE' if anybody's interested. They probably fixed it just for us."

Wrinkling his nose at the idea of four training hours after a flight, Alec suddenly regretted yesterday's "rest day". Of course, rest day for him and Isabelle still meant two hours on the ice doing light exercises, but their father and coach, Robert, had told them they needed a break after the exertion of the last day of Trials. He insisted on the rest day, with the condition that they return to training immediately upon arrival in Toronto. Really, Alec hadn't thought the rest day all that necessary, since he and Isabelle were both still young and spry, him at 22 and her at 19.

"You have that look on your face again," Jace said.

Alec glanced up. "What look?"

"That look you get whenever you're thinking about a race. You're thinking of the 500 again, aren't you?"

He wasn't able to hide his smile, a fact that Jace noticed. Laughing, he teased, "I hope Superstar isn't getting too cocky on us."

"Alec, cocky?" Isabelle laughed. "If anything he needs to show a little more bravado or the other skaters will think he's too soft."

Alec rolled his eyes, all too familiar with their teasing him for his introvert qualities. "I just can't believe I got that break in the semifinals. If Apolo hadn't crashed_—_"

"_No_, Alec, we've been over this." The voice with which his sister spoke was adamant. "Apolo crashing had nothing to do with your results. You would've qualified regardless, and although the Team has one less favourite to root for with him unable to compete, you now have even better chances at Gold. Now, can we talk about something other than skating?"

A _beep _sounded, and Clary jerked her head away from the window to look at her phone. "Sorry, my mom just texted me. She says the restaurant for tonight just confirmed her reservation."

"It's not just any high-class chain restaurant, is it?" Jace had a knowing smirk on his face. "I bet she had her hotshot actor get us into some private place downtown."

Clary shrugged. "I don't know if she'll have Magnus with her tonight. She probably will, though."

"I still can't believe we're meeting him." Isabelle was visibly excited. "He's such a hot ticket now, and he probably knows all the right people in Hollywood."

Alec wrinkled his nose again. "I doubt he'll want to keep in touch with us after this week. The only reason we're even meeting him is because of Clary's mom."

Jocelyn Fray, Clary's mother, was the manager of Magnus Bane, actor extraordinaire and the star of one of the Toronto International Film Festival's headlining films. Thanks to Jocelyn, Alec and his siblings were tagging along to the film festival. Clary would get some much needed time with her mother, after her mother had been away working in LA and Clary had been training in New York. Jace was with Clary, and Isabelle had wanted to mingle with movie stars. Their parents couldn't leave their charges without training for a week, so they had come as well, securing a private skating centre owned by their friends the Penhallows for their time in Toronto.

This left Alec with no choice but to tag along, not just to Toronto but to TIFF itself, deciding that he'd rather spend time watching movies than sitting alone in an unfamiliar condo.

"Oh, come on," Isabelle said. "Magnus isn't who he is because he's not _friendly_. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to schmooze with some world-class athletes."

Jace cocked an eyebrow. "World-class? Look who's getting cocky now."

"I'm just saying that this could be _fun_. A break, of sorts." Isabelle sighed. "What's wrong with that?"

Realizing there was no way he would be able to nap on the flight, Alec shifted and tried his best to tune them out. Not for the first time that day, he longed for his cell phone to pass the time, cursing the fact that he had broken it the night before during a jog. Now he would have to wait until they were back home before he got a new one.

Home, he thought, remembering Izzy's innocent question in regards to this little excursion. _What's wrong with that?_ Many things, in fact. They ought to be back in New York, training for Vancouver, which was in less than six months. Instead, they were about to go prancing around Toronto with an A-list celebrity who was probably snobby, arrogant, and rude. He doubted that Magnus Bane would ever come down from whatever cloud he was on.

Grumbling, Alec contented himself with the knowledge that in under a week, they'd be back on a plane, but instead heading home to New York. Then things would be back to normal.

Still, it was going to be a long week.

* * *

With a soft _ding_, the small sign above bearing the number '16' was illuminated, and the elevator doors slid open to allow the two guests in the hallway entrance. Once inside, the shorter of the two pressed the button with the letter 'G' harshly, and the occupants were headed to the ground floor.

"You know, you could be a little less excited," the taller guest said. He glanced down at his companion. "Try as you might, love, you can't make this elevator go faster."

"I can't help it, it's just that I haven't seen her since the 4th of July!"

"Seems just like yesterday..."

"Only because you were down in Miami with that dashing devil of yours. What was his name again?"

"I don't remember, it was two months ago."

"Exactly. Two months since I've seen her."

"Her? No, hon, it hasn't been a girl since last Christmas."

The elevator slowed to a stop, allowing its occupants to exit. The shorter one immediately pulled the other to the side, hiding them behind the corner of a hallway before they could be seen. She glared into his eyes. "Geez, _her_, as in Clary. And please, remember to control yourself before we get to the car, Magnus."

Magnus Bane grinned at his manager. "Of course, darling."

"No funny business with the fans."

"Never."

"Magnus?" His manager, Jocelyn, fixed him with a sharp glare. "I mean it."

He smirked and patted her on the cheek. With that, he strode out around the corner of the hallway and into the bustle of the lobby.

Not even the Fairmont Royal York staff could keep out the bulk of the media. A velvet rope was strung around the wall opposite the front desk, allowing Magnus to make his way to the doors without being bombarded by potential interviewers. Jocelyn was hurrying alongside him, trying to match his long strides. "I really need to talk to the staff about these hounds," she hissed.

Magnus gave a wave to the front row of media people, many of whom were reporters and journalists who had been parked to try and catch the celebrities staying at the Fairmont. The actor shot them a sparkling smile before allowing Jocelyn to push him out through the front doors. On either side of the set of doors, a throng of screaming fans were clamouring for Magnus' attention, only held back by a velvet rope and one or two security guards.

Ignoring Jocelyn's insistence on getting into the waiting car, Magnus strode to one side of the fans, who wailed even louder upon realizing that he was approaching. At the front row was a group of young girls, probably between 16 and 18 years old. As he came closer, one girl in particular looked to be on the verge of tears. Smirking inwardly, he took hold of the proffered notebook and signed his name with a flourish before handing it back to her.

She probably would have fainted if her friend hadn't squealed in a high-pitched voice, "Ooooh, take a picture!"

Magnus looked the young girl in the eye and smiled widely. "Of course," he said, pulling her in for the shot. After the picture was taken, he winked at the group of friends. "Stay fabulous, darlings."

He spent a few more minutes signing autographs before Jocelyn shrieked at him from the car door. Waving and flashing the crowd one more smile, he ducked past his manager into the car. It pulled away as soon as Jocelyn shut the door. "Jesus, Magnus," she said. "Any longer and we would've been late."

"Late?" The actor cracked his knuckles before wiping his hands on his dark leather pants. "Magnus Bane is never late, everyone else is simply early."

"That's from _The Princess Diaries. _It was Julie Andrews' line," said Jocelyn, taking out a bottle of hand sanitizer from her tote bag and handing it to him.

Magnus took the bottle and squeezed a liberal amount onto his palm, taking care not to spill any on his shimmering waistcoat. "Whatever, it's regal-sounding, and I like to sound regal."

His manager rolled her eyes as she took back the hand sanitizer. "You do realize that makes you a right and proper queen."

"Queen, yes." Magnus waggled his eyebrows at the double entendre. "However, you of all people should know that I'm nowhere near 'proper'".

"I do. And that's why I need you to tone it down tonight."

"Tone what?"

"Your _regalia_, your Majesty." Jocelyn's voice was teasing, and she reached across the seat to take her client and best friend's hand. "Clary's bringing some friends along."

"Oh, is she now?" Magnus glanced at Jocelyn. She had told him enough about her Olympic figure skater daughter for him to know about her boyfriend, Jace Lightwood, who was also her skating partner. Aside from Clary and a couple others, Magnus had not made direct contact with many Olympic athletes. In fact, he wasn't all that into most sports, the only time he had watched any sort of game being a disastrous date with a basketball player's cousin. Other than Clary and the few of-the-moment stars, he was clueless as to the US Olympic team.

"Well, she's bringing Jace, of course. But she's also friends with Jace's two siblings, Isabelle and Alec. You know them, right?"

Magnus gave her a blank stare.

"You're ridiculous. Here," she said, pulling out her phone and doing a quick search. "Perhaps this will jog your insane memory."

Magnus leaned over to look at the picture on her phone. The two athletes were standing next to each other at what appeared to be some sports magazine photo shoot. The girl with the long black hair was obviously Isabelle, but the young man next to her stood out like a flame: Alec Lightwood, called "America's Superstar" by the press, his face being plastered on billboards and cereal boxes a mere four years ago immediately following the Turin 2006 Winter Olympics. Magnus definitely remembered the slim speed skater, how he had surprised the country by snagging two medals—or was it three?—at his first Olympics, and suddenly Alec was the hugest thing in the country for about two months or so.

Magnus even remembered having an inkling one day as he watched an _Ellen _interview with Alec, feeling a flashing certainty on his inner radar as he watched the blushing speed skater on television.

Then the post-Olympic fever had died, and Alec, like all the other athletes, had presumably faded back into their insane training schedules amidst ordinary lives. Inkling or not, Olympic athletes always seemed hard to reach for him.

Until now.

Jocelyn turned her phone off and stuffed it away. "So it'll be you, me, Clary, and the three Lightwoods. Please try not to be too intimidating."

Magnus smirked, already thinking of tonight's possibilities and wondering how much champagne he'd need to order from room service. He crossed his legs and gazed out the window, the face in his mind a pale one with dark hair and blue eyes. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about," he said.

* * *

_Author's Note: So I've made a little return to the site, this time with an AU that I hope everyone can enjoy and ride along with me. (Also, happy first day of TIFF 2013!)_

_ Drop me a review if you have time, but if you don't, I'll love you anyway for just taking the time to read. :)_

_Chapter Two should be coming soon!_


	2. Chapter 2

The Penhallows had insisted on the young athletes taking one of their limousines. The four had only agreed because Isabelle had loudly proclaimed her thanks for sparing her the feat of walking downtown in stilettos.

The stop-and-go traffic of downtown Toronto was threatening to give Alec a headache, and he desperately wished he had taken some aspirin before they left. It wasn't just the traffic—a whole day's worth of hectic activities had been building up since the flight from Michigan.

After landing at the Toronto Pearson airport, the Lightwood team had been met by the Penhallows' chauffeur, who took them to the neighbouring town of Ajax. That was around 11 o'clock in the morning, and it was noon by the time they arrived at the small arena. Since it had two rinks, Jace and Clary used one with their coach, the Lightwood matriarch and former Olympic figure skater Maryse Lightwood. Robert took Alec and Isabelle on the second one.

Robert hadn't been lying when he said he wanted at least four hard hours of training. The exercises he had ran them through were excessive and excruciating, leaving Alec's legs sore by the time he went to the change room to shower. Even with less than three percent body fat, giving himself a rest day after a difficult day of Olympic Trials had its consequences. Not to mention an uncomfortable plane ride and a tedious drive on Toronto highways.

Following the training, the team was taken to the Penhallows' condo in downtown Toronto. As two wealthy diplomats, the Penhallows lived in an upscale penthouse near the heart of the city. Aline, their daughter, was a young socialite-turned-actress who had recently been cast in a new TV drama. Being the same age as Isabelle, she and the Lightwood children had grown up together and treated each other as cousins. It wasn't surprising when, upon pulling up to their building, Aline had rushed out of the lobby and pulled each of them into a bear hug, Alec being the first.

"God, you smell!" was the first thing she had said to him.

"I just showered," Alec had protested pathetically as she moved on to Isabelle.

Up in the condo, Alec had realized that it was just past six o'clock, and they were meeting Jocelyn at seven. With no time for a good nap, he had showered again, revelling in the multiple functions of the luxurious shower to soothe his tired body. He then changed into something he thought to be acceptable for a private Toronto dinner club.

Izzy had told him to wear something else, though, shrieking that a black sweater and pants made him look like a mourner. The way he was dreading the week ahead, he may as well have been.

Sitting in the back of Aline's limousine now, Alec attempted to dull the oncoming headache by playing with the cuffs of his grey dress shirt. Isabelle had let him keep his black trousers, but insisted on a charcoal suit jacket over his shirt in an attempt to make her brother look somewhat fashionable.

The digital clock by the small cooler read _7:16_, and Alec grimaced, knowing that this maniacal traffic was making them remarkably late. Maybe if they had left the skating rinks sooner, they'd be on time, but Robert and Maryse had insisted on a long practice. But their parents-slash-coaches were dining in the condo with the Penhallows that night, so the children had to fend for themselves.

"Stop fussing with the cufflinks," Isabelle said, leaning over to pull Alec's hands into hers. "You'll ruin something."

As if he were a little boy preparing for Mass.

"Relax, Iz. He's probably just nervous," Jace smiled lazily, playing with a curl of Clary's hair that had sprung loose from her ponytail.

"Why the hell would I be nervous? I just don't like this shirt," Alec replied. He took in Jace's white shirt-grey trousers ensemble and Clary's green drop waist dress, the two of them looking every bit the wondrous pair of delicate figure skaters. Izzy's dark cocktail dress, on the other hand, was an obvious sultry attempt. "Besides, we're just meeting Clary's mom."

"And possibly Magnus," quipped Isabelle. "Did your mom say if he was coming yet?"

Clary glanced down at her phone. "No. She hasn't been answering my texts, and I tried calling her but she won't pick up. At least she texted me the address, but we were still training then."

"Maybe she's in the bathroom?" Jace asked.

Clary punched him lightly in the arm. "For the past half hour?"

"You never know."

"While this conversation is really quite charming," Isabelle said, inspecting a red nail, "I do hope Magnus will be there. I can only wear this dress once in public."

Clary glared at her. "Don't tell me you're trying to hit on my mom's _client_! He's also her best friend!"

"Not hitting on him. Just trying to make an impression."

Alec scoffed. "Hardly the time, Iz. Besides, Magnus will probably pull a diva tantrum when he realizes we're late and leave." _And then we could go home and sleep_, he thought wistfully.

"Diva tantrum? You make him sound like a fussy roommate," Jace said. "And Isabelle can impress whoever she wants, even if he is a sparkling gay man. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course." He noticeably shifted his gaze to Alec, who blushed.

Alec had only ever told three people in the world about his sexual orientation: Isabelle, Jace, and Clary. They had always loved him unconditionally, and even after he came out, the never-ending teasing about finding him a date had only switched genders.

But there was no way Jace was insisting the Alec wanted to meet Magnus.

"No! Absolutely not!" Alec cried out, a little louder than necessary.

"Relax, Superstar," Jace drawled. "I think Izzy might win between the two of you tonight."

Isabelle preened. "Damn good thing he's bi," she said.

Alec wrinkled his nose. The actor's infamous bisexuality made him one of the most talked-about celebrities, but if anything, he received more praise than critique. At least, Magnus was seen dating top men and women all the time. Alec wondered how many people the actor had been with, even if Magnus was only two years older than him. But this was hardly the time to be thinking about the actor's sex life.

He desperately wished for something to distract him from inappropriate thoughts about Hollywood, but the conversation was now moving into a detailed discussion between Jace and Isabelle about Magnus' legs. His head throbbed viciously.

What he wouldn't give for his phone right now.

Fortunately, he was spared having to endure any further agony in the back of the limo when the car came to a longer stop than usual, and soon the back door was being opened.

Jace was the first one out, helping Clary step onto the sidewalk, and then Izzy. Alec emerged last, taking time to tip the driver with a coloured Canadian bill before following his family into the building.

Alec stepped past the revolving doors and into a wide lobby with high ceilings. Walking through it, he saw that black marble tiled the floor, and a sitting area furnished with dark red couches adorned the left of the lobby. Directly across from the entrance, a lounge with a red velvet rope across its front stretched deeper into the building, and Alec could see a small number of people already crowding its bar in tuxedos and satin cocktail dresses. To his right, three elevators were set into the marble wall. Clary pushed the 'up' button on the inset panel.

The doors to one elevator opened, and the four skaters stepped inside. Alec gave one last look at the back lounge where two men had just been allowed past the velvet rope. With a leap of his heart, he saw that their hands were clasped together, and then the elevator doors slid shut.

Riding up, Isabelle began fussing again with her hair, switching the ends from one shoulder to the next until Alec shoved her in the arm. "Quit it, you look fine," he said.

"Easy for you to say," she said, biting her lip. "Your hair always looks the same."

Alec turned and caught his reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. His hair was beginning to come down to his jawline, and the gel he had hastily applied was already starting to lose its hold. Head still aching, he sighed, glancing longingly at Jace's flawless blond hair. His brother was otherwise occupied with asking Clary if she was sure about the floor number.

"I'm _positive_," Clary said, checking her phone again. "Floor 30. My mom said it's at the top of the building."

"Oooh, penthouse! I love it already," Isabelle smiled, clapping her hands together.

Alec was about to retort that a private dinner club on the top floor of a building was just the sort of place for stuck-up Hollywood airheads to go when the elevator stopped moving and its doors opened. As the four of them walked onto the black marble floor, he shut up. A slim figure in a dark purple dress was waiting for them by the host's podium across the elevators. "Clary!"

"Mom!" Clary rushed forward, throwing her arms around her mother as Jace followed close behind. "I'm so sorry we're late! It's just that with training..."

They were saying more, but Alec had torn his eyes away from the reunion, feeling like it was a private moment. He turned his gaze past the podium and the Frays into the restaurant. A wide entrance opened out into an admittedly beautiful room that appeared to take up the entire floor. The restaurant, it seemed, was garden-themed, with all of its many tables made of cast iron and seperated by trellises intertwined with ivy and holly. The ceiling was strung with small balls of light that gave the room an intimate feel. To the right, Alec could see a small bar with high-backed stools made out of the same cast-iron as the tables and chairs. Next to the bar was a set of sliding doors that, upon seeing somebody walk through, opened onto a balcony that overlooked the city.

"...and of course you know Alec."

He turned when he heard his name and was met with Clary staring at him from her mother's side. Jocelyn had her hand stuck out, and he shook it, smiling with the ease of somebody used to hiding what he was really feeling inside. "Alec Lightwood," she beamed. "Superstar. I sure hope you're planning on continuing that Turin round!"

"I'll try my best," Alec grinned weakly, masking the pounding he could feel in his head. God, he needed some sleep.

"Well, that's all we can hope for." Jocelyn put her arm around Clary and gestured inside. "Shall we?"

She pointed to a table in the back corner by the far side of the bar, and they began to make their way over. Like the others, it was surrounded by a low trellis to give them privacy from the other diners. The table was near the sliding doors that led to the balcony. Jocelyn must have seen Alec looking in that direction, for she said, "I requested a table by the window, and they gave us this one with a magnificent view. If you want a better one, we could step outside later. There's stairs for you to go to the roof, they have this gorgeous garden up there."

Alec smiled in her direction, not saying that "later" he'd rather be in bed.

Once they were close enough to sit down, Alec noticed that there were six place settings instead of five, and there were already two wine glasses filled up. The fact didn't get past the others either. "Oh, is Magnus coming?" Clary asked her mom.

From the corner of his eye, Alec saw Izzy straighten up and glance quickly around.

Jocelyn nodded, sitting down and motioning for the others to do the same. "He came here with me. He's outside, probably on the roof. He needed to talk with Luke about something, but his phone died so I lent him mine. I'm sorry if you called, Clary."

Alec stiffened when he saw how the seating turned out. Clary at one end, with Jocelyn and Jace on either side. At the other end was Isabelle, and Alec had ended up between her and Jace—directly across from the empty seat where Magnus would be sitting.

"Shiraz?"

He looked up, embarrassed to have zoned out twice in so little time. "Uh, yes, please," he stammered, allowing the waitress to pour him a glass of wine. He really couldn't care less if he shouldn't be drinking wine so early after training.

In the next five minutes, the five of them managed low conversation, waiting for their sixth guest to join them so that the waiting staff could begin serving the meal. "Five courses," Jocelyn said. "Salad, soup, pasta, the main course, and then dessert. It's a good thing you all burn your food so quickly!"

While Jace made some quip about burning things other than food, Alec grimaced, staring at his nearly empty glass of wine which he had managed to down within five minutes. He knew it wasn't doing anything to dull his headache, but God knows he needed a buzz to get through what was going to be a long night. At least the lights of the restaurant weren't too bright, or else he'd probably be throwing up by now.

"So how was your training today?" Jocelyn was asking her daughter.

Clary squirmed. "Not as bad as we were expecting, but worse than how we should be by now."

"Worse?" Jocelyn looked concerned.

Jace shrugged. "It's not that big a deal, it's just nerves." He glanced at Clary, and in his eyes, Alec could see the love in them. Jace was shrugging the situation off, but there was so much more to it. "Nerves, and Canadian rinks can't handle our perfection."

"You're all training in Ajax this week, right?"

"Yeah, the Lightwoods know this family who owns a small arena there."

"And there's enough rinks for you?"

"Two," Isabelle spoke up, putting away a tube in her purse that Alec knew to be lip gloss. "The rink Alec and I are using was even marked out for us already."

"Marked out?"

"Well, our dad likes to train using marked ice that mimics the short track we race. It's easier for us, I think, because then we get so used to the turns and the stretches_—_"

"Turns and stretches? Dear me, I hope we're not planning on starting a Twister session here."

Isabelle's jaw snapped shut and Jace appeared to choke on the water he was drinking. Jocelyn stood up to greet the newcomer, but all Alec could do was stare.

_Magnus Bane_.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your phone, love."

He was standing behind his empty chair right across from Alec, but his eyes were on Jocelyn, who was coming to him from behind Clary. From his seated position, Alec took everything in that was Magnus.

Of course he knew who the actor was, Clary spoke bits and pieces about her mother's trips with him, and Isabelle often took Jace, Clary, and himself to watch his movies.

In the flesh, though, Magnus simply dazzled. There was no other word for it. He was tall, _really _tall, maybe a half foot taller than his five-foot-eight sister, who he noticed had stood up to grasp at the actor's outstretched hand. His legs were clad in shiny black leather that was so tight, it left nothing to the imagination. Magnus' lime green dress shirt was neatly folded at the sleeves up to his elbows, exposing slender forearms which led to long, delicate fingers bejewelled with glimmering rings. A black waistcoat covered with glitter adorned his torso, but the top of the dress shirt was unbuttoned, allowing for a glimpse of shining tan neck. Alec noticed that Magnus' spiked-up hair sparkled under the ceiling lights. His slightly slanted Asian eyes, an earthy green in the ambiance of the restaurant, were ringed with smoky eyeliner.

They were also looking right at him.

"Alexander Lightwood."

Alec gulped upon being spoken to by the actor, the harsh _x _sound of his full name escaping from glossy lips. With a start, he stood up hastily, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. He heard Jace snort as he stuck out his hand and inhaled sharply when Magnus took it, feeling the chill left on the actor's hand by the outside. "Yeah, hi, I'm Alec Lightwood." _Wait, shit, why'd he say that again?_

Magnus smirked. "Thanks for the confirmation."

Jace was snickering in the background. _Bastard._

Suddenly he noticed that he was still holding Magnus' hand. He jerked it back quickly and turned to pull his chair back in, falling into his seat in a clumsy gesture uncharacteristic of his normal athletic finesse.

Magnus was looking amused. He sat down in his own chair with an effortless grace, and Alec felt Isabelle kick him under the table. She shot him a look. _Smooth, _it said.

Alec stared at the napkin on his lap in response.

With Magnus having joined them, the first course of salad was served, and Alec was grateful to have something to glare at besides his napkin. No matter what, he could not chance glancing up and risk meeting the actor's eyes. Not that it mattered, anyway. He reminded himself that Magnus was a rude and snotty Hollywood brat, probably looking to call up some dirt on America's athletes. And already, Alec had made enough of a fool out of himself.

Thankfully, he was able to avoid most of the dinner conversation being volleyed around.

"So your mother says that you and Goldilocks over there have quite the death spiral," Magnus said to Clary.

"Death spiral? You know about those?" Clary looked surprised.

"I guested on a TV show a couple years ago as a friend of Johnny Weir. I know a few of the terms."

Jace cocked his head. "I remember that show. It was a reality show, so you and Weir are actual friends."

"If you want to get into specifics, it was a reality TV show," Magnus shrugged. "And, yes, Johnny and I are good friends."

"I met him once!" Isabelle said, eager to join the conversation. "Last year, we went with Jace and Clary to the World Figure Skating Championships in Sweden!"

_Shoot_. Alec braced himself for Izzy to launch into that horribly embarrassing anecdote of how they had run across Johnny in a restaurant. Alec had made his sister "accidentally" run into him, forcing him to fall right into the arms of Mr. Weir himself. Unfortunately, all that happened was Isabelle spilling her water as she rushed to her brother, causing Alec to slip and concuss himself. Johnny was gone by the time his vision cleared.

But Isabelle mentioned nothing about the story. Instead, the next thing she said was, "Gothenburg was an interesting place. What's the most interesting place you've been to?"

Bless her. Admittedly, Isabelle was more concerned with trying to attract Magnus' attention then protect Alec's integrity, but the result remained the same.

The dinner moved through the soup and the pasta without incident. Alec was able to keep his eyes on the food while he tried to force his wine down and numb his throbbing forehead. Once or twice, he thought he felt a sharp green gaze on him from across the table, but he ignored it both times.

Then during the main course, Alec happened to tune back into the conversation. He didn't know why, something must have compelled him to, and he was startled to hear the dramatic turn that the discussion had taken.

Magnus was speaking, his green eyes staring off into the distance. "My parents didn't say anything when I told them. They were silent. In fact, the next day they had suitcases packed and we were leaving the house. Of course I just assumed everything was fine and dandy, and we were going on a vacation—it was the first time we had actually ever gone away together as a family."

Alec was entranced by the more serious tone in the actor's voice, and so was the rest of the table. Everybody was listening to Magnus in silence.

"I was fifteen. Ten years ago. I didn't know any better, and when my mother told me to wait in the hotel lobby while they got their things in the car, obviously I just agreed. It only took me twenty minutes of waiting before I went to check in the parking lot, and when I turned to look at our parking spot... Well, you can probably guess that part now."

Alec couldn't look away again; his basil chicken was forgotten.

"I remember running. I ran out of that parking lot, but where I ran to was a blur. Down the road, through town, across intersections... I don't even remember if I was crying. I just remember that feeling that with nobody to want me, nobody I had ever cared about, cared about me anymore, so it didn't really matter where the hell I went." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I remember wanting to die. I have a memory of crawling into a back-lot alley one night, leaning against a dumpster and willing myself to pass out. That never happened though."

At this, Magnus looked up and met Jocelyn's eyes, which were shiny with tears. The actor smiled weakly. "Luke found me. You know, Luke Garroway, the director? He and his girlfriend Jocelyn took me in when he was just an assistant director and she his manager." Magnus relaxed, straightening his shoulders, and the enchanting aura that had seemed to previously surround him vanished. "The rest, as you can Wikipedia, is history."

The table was silent, except for Jocelyn's soft sniffling as she wiped her eyes with her napkin, no doubt remembering that fateful day ten years ago. Clary and Isabelle had identical shocked looks on their faces, while Jace was staring at his steak. Nobody was saying a word.

Which was why everybody, including himself, when Alec was the first one to say something. "It's not your fault," he declared.

Jace's head snapped up, but Alec hardly noticed. Magnus had turned his head so that their eyes met, and this time, Alec didn't pull his gaze away. "It's not your fault," he said again. "Your parents, what they did, it's _their_ fault, not yours. You never changed. It's their fault for refusing to accept somebody they love."

Alec's heart was beating so quickly, and he swore he could hear it drowning out the other noises in the restaurant. He was sure everybody could hear it, especially Magnus, who had yet to take his eyes off him.

Suddenly he saw the corners of the actor's mouth quirk up in a small grin. Magnus looked as if he were about to say something in return, but the waitress appeared just then. "Are we all ready for dessert now?"

Perhaps Jocelyn had nodded in response, but all Alec saw was Magnus, still staring at him and replying in what couldn't have been a deeper voice than before, "Oh, _definitely_."

Alec blushed and pulled his gaze away, returning it to his napkin. If Jace or Isabelle noticed, they didn't say anything. Instead, the conversation resumed and Alec was pleased to hear to topic switching to lighter stories about Jocelyn and Magnus' early days together.

Dessert came and went, Alec making sure to not make more eye contact with Magnus. After his earlier outburst, his headache had increased in intensity and now all he wanted was to go back to the Penhallows' condo and curl up in bed, to forget everything that had happened in the past couple hours and just sleep.

His hopes were dashed when Jocelyn suggested that they all go outside after she had scribbled out a number to the waitress for billing. Groaning inwardly, Alec stood up along with the others and followed them to the sliding doors. Magnus was leading the way; he had Isabelle's arm in his, and Alec was aware of the way they were chatting like old friends. Leave it to his sister to charm her way into the heart of an actor. They'd probably be on the front of a magazine cover by next week.

The rush of cool evening air hit him as they stepped out onto the balcony. Bright lights gleamed in the night as the cityscape of Toronto greeted him, the sounds of the streets below rising up in a cacophony similar to that of New York. Alec almost felt at home again, until he heard Isabelle's voice calling them to the short staircase on the left that led to the rooftop garden.

Ascending the five or so stairs, Alec found himself on a wide rectangular expanse with the empty night sky greeting him from above. The entire roof was covered with concrete squares that each bore a bench, bushes, and planters filled with flowers. A waist-level ledge ran along the edge of the roof, as well as cast iron trellises that were pillared at each corner by a small tree. On each side, the trellis opened up to allow a small viewing area. Each side had its own skinny gutter of water in which lotus flowers floated, completing the look of serenity on the rooftop.

"This is _gorgeous_!" cried Isabelle, scampering off to the closest lotus gutter and pulling Magnus along. She started poking around at the brightly-coloured flowers while Jocelyn took Clary to the adjacent wall, Jace right behind his girlfriend, presumably to point out some landmarks of the city.

This left Alec by himself, which didn't surprise him. Olympic athlete or not, he was still the same quiet introvert.

The few other people on the rooftop barely noticed him as he wandered off to an unoccupied gutter by the wall farthest away from the staircase, adjacent to Jace, Clary, and Jocelyn. Looking out into the city, he sighed deeply, trying to allow the blinking lights and the calmness of the garden to soothe his headache. The gutter, he noticed, had lights at its bottom that changed colours every so often, fading from red to purple to blue and to green. Alec poked at a lotus flower with his index finger, watching the changing light under the water through its thin petals.

He was so preoccupied in the flowers that he didn't notice the person who sneaked up on him until that person spoke. "Lotuses are sacred flowers in Buddhism. I'm sure a Buddhist monk would be appalled at the way you're treating that one."

Alec whipped his head around to see Magnus standing behind him, facing the city. The actor didn't say anything further, so Alec figured the onus was one him to continue conversation. "There's a Chinese restaurant near our building in New York." _Why the hell did you pick _that _as a conversation topic?_

Magnus chuckled. "You have an interesting idea of small talk, Superstar."

Alec inhaled sharply. Well, of course the actor would know that nickname. He probably knows the money-grabbing people who coined it, too. Alec turned and looked up at the tall man standing next to him, who had fixed him with a piercing green stare. He tried to say something, but failed to come up with a response with those eyes on him.

"It's okay, Alexander." Magnus smiled calmly. "You're sister's in the bathroom, by the way. I came because I just wanted to thank you for saying what you said earlier. Not many people really understand when they attempt to empathize."

There was a way he spoke, an eloquence and grace in how the actor never tripped over his words or said something stupid the way Alec often did. "Well, uh..." he stammered. "You're welcome."

"You do understand, do you?"

Alec's heart was hammering against his chest. Magnus had somehow moved closer and now their chests were only a couple inches apart.

Never had another person been so close to him before. Jace and Isabelle hardly counted, they were his _siblings_. But this moment with Magnus was different.

It felt as if everything happened in one second. Alec sucked in another breath as he felt Magnus lift his hand to trail it down his arm. The long fingers rested lightly on his hand as the actor leaned in close, seeming to bend in as if he wanted to shut out the activity of the city and create their own little world here on the rooftop, by the little lotus gutter. Alec felt Magnus' warm breath mingle with his own as he shut his eyes, preparing for something he had never intended to take place tonight, never intended or imagined would ever take place in his wildest dreams, especially with this hotshot actor. He couldn't stop it if he wanted to, and he wasn't quite sure that he didn't. Everything came to a standstill, and his heart slammed against his ribcage as he waited in that one second_—_

He felt a crinkle and a rustle in his fingertips and he opened his eyes, finding that the actor had pulled away and was now regarding him with a playful glint in his eyes.

Alec's heart was still stampeding like a racehorse. "What..." The question died on his lips, unable to be fully formed in his confusion.

Magnus leaned against the ledge languorously, dropping a smoky eyelid in a wink. "No need to have a way with words, Superstar. Just give me a ring when you're on your way. I'll be waiting."

And with that the actor peeled away from the ledge, striding towards the middle of the garden. "Jocelyn!" he called.

Clary's mom looked up from where she was with her daughter and Jace. "So soon, Magnus?"

"I thought these kids had training tomorrow," Magnus smirked, putting his hands on his hips.

Jocelyn walked over, still holding Clary's hand. She turned to face her daughter, raising her voice so that Alec could hear by the ledge. "I'll see you tomorrow night, pumpkin. I'll text you the meeting place in the morning." She kissed Clary goodbye, patted Jace's shoulder, and raised a hand to Alec in farewell.

Then Jocelyn took Magnus' arm and they were off down the staircase back into the restaurant, only pausing to say goodbye to Isabelle, who had appeared on the steps.

Magnus never looked back at Alec, who hadn't moved from his spot by the ledge and was staring incredulously at the direction of the staircase.

"Alec!" Isabelle cried. "I called the limo driver before I came back, let's go downstairs!"

Alec didn't acknowledge her though, didn't make any move to walk over to her. He only lifted the hand at his side to glare at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

_Fairmont Royal York, Room 1603  
__416-129-4958  
__See you there XX_

"Hey, Alec! Are you okay?"

Looking up, Alec closed his hand into a fist, crushing the small note. He only paused a moment to skim his hand over the lotus gutter, dropping the paper into the water in the process. "I'm fine, Izzy," he called.

It was only on their way down in the elevator that he noticed the absence of his headache.

* * *

_A/N: I made a few meta references in the past couple chapters, so here's a little explanation for further understanding:_

_1. Apolo from Chapter 1 is Apolo Ohno, short track speed skater, and currently the most decorated American Winter Olympian of all time.  
2. Fairmont Royal York Hotel - a really schnazzy place downtown Toronto, the inside of which I've never actually seen. All descriptions of it I've made up.  
3. Johnny is Johnny Weir, the American figure skater. (Side note: I love him to bits.)  
4. All dates and locations for TIFF, World Championships, and the Olympics are as exact as I can make them. _

_Thanks for much for reading; Chapter Three is on its way!_


	3. Chapter 3

_September 15, 2009_

"For goodness sake, you are _not _getting drunk at ten o'clock in the morning!" Jocelyn's hand shot out to snatch the half-empty champagne bottle out of his hand. "If I hadn't walked in when I did..."

With a groan, Magnus shifted himself on the couch so that he lay across it, his long legs propped up on the far cushions. "Leave me to die," he said, throwing his arm across his forehead dramatically.

"I would, but then I'd have to explain the body to the hotel staff."

Magnus pouted behind his forearm.

"I'd also have to tell Luke, and he'd be so disappointed at the tragic turn of events."

"Jocelyn? I love you, hon, you know I do, but can you please just give me back the bottle? I swear it'll wear off by tonight."

"Bullshit." He heard her footsteps moving across the carpeted sitting area to the small dining space, probably to retrieve the cork from where he had thrown it earlier. "How long have you been drinking?"

"Not long, maybe ten minutes."

"And you've managed to down half a litre of champagne. Nice."

"It's _fine_. Why can't a man just have a drink when he wakes up?"

Jocelyn scoffed. "Because said man has to appear before the press tonight." He felt her nudge at his propped-up feet before sitting down on the armrest. "Why are you trying to get drunk, anyhow?"

"Why do you need to know?" Magnus whined.

"Because I'm your friend, idiot. You're obviously upset about something, and believe it or not, I actually care about you. Now, did anything happen last night before I went down to my room?"

Magnus shook his head behind his arm, refusing to remove it lest his friend sense something incriminating on his facial expression.

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't."

All he felt was the depression of the couch before she had gotten between him and the cushions, and with a loud _thump_ he fell onto the floor. "Shit, woman!" he cried, looking up at her from his spot on the carpet where she had shoved him. "What's wrong with you?"

Jocelyn had settled onto the now vacant couch with her legs crossed under her. Her childish position and her pale face, devoid of makeup and framed by stray curls falling from a hasty bun, made her appear several years younger. "Magnus, seriously. You always drink in the morning when something's happened."

Magnus sighed, staring into her green eyes that were full of legitimate concern. He decided there was really no point beating around the bush with his best friend. "You wore me down, love." He sat up and brought his hands to rest on his knees. "I was stood up last night."

The surprise in Jocelyn's eyes was evident. "_You_? Stood up?"

Magnus nodded sombrely.

"Oh my _God_, that was the first time it happened to you, wasn't it?"

"My sincerest gratitude for rubbing it in."

Jocelyn fell back onto the cushions, exhaling loudly. "Geez, Magnus Bane finally stood up. Serves you right for hitting on anybody you find remotely attractive."

"You of all people know that I expect a specific standard in any potential sleepover buddies, and believe me, he _far _exceeded those expectations."

His manager raised her eyebrows. "He?"

"Problem?"

"Oh no, it's just that the past couple have been girls. I remember the last one, brunette, and that was just last week!"

"Please don't remind me, she was _terrifying_."

Jocelyn huffed. "Forget that, when did you even find time to go out last night? You told me to take you straight here before I went back to my room down the hall. Before that we were at the restaurant."

Magnus stayed silent, waiting for her to inevitably realize the truth.

"And anybody would have noticed if you sneaked away, especially on the roof when you were with Clary's friend, that Lightwood boy, and th_— Oh_."

Magnus leaned forward to cover his face in his hands. He didn't know whether to be embarrassed—since this had never happened before and he wasn't sure if perhaps he had been deemed aesthetically unsuitable by the skater—or determined. The act of unloading his burden to a friend filled him with a strong desire to try again, and this time, not fail.

He then heard the cork being popped off the champagne bottle, and he turned to Jocelyn, who had just taken a healthy swig. "What? You did say it would wear off by tonight."

* * *

The sign across the street blinked and switched from a red hand to a pale stick figure, letting the small group of people at the corner to cross to the other side of the road. Alec tried to keep up with his sister and not lose her in the bustle, but he was inhibited from doing so by a slight shove to his side. He turned to see a tall, burly man looking at him from behind a Blue Jays cap. "Sorry 'bout that," the man said without malice, continuing across the intersection after moving away from Alec.

He caught up to his sister, who had paused on the sidewalk to wait for him. "That guy over there didn't recognize you, did he?" she asked.

"What? No." Alec skimmed over what he hoped were their inconspicuous ensembles. Isabelle was wearing a black velvet trench coat that he knew concealed a dark pink, way-too-short-for-a-movie-theatre dress. He himself had opted for dark jeans and a blue button-down, knowing that he could never wear his grey shirts again without thinking of the previous night. Trying to push the events at the restaurant to the back of his head, he just said, "I guess it's true what they say about Canadians being nice and all."

"Yeah? That, and people have probably forgotten all about Turin by now."

"I'm glad they have," he grumbled. "That way we can walk wherever we want without being swamped like we were four years ago."

"Well, if Superstar lives up to the hype at Vancouver, there's no way we can avoid being noticed."

Alec's nose wrinkled as they continued down the sidewalk. He clearly remembered how overwhelmed he had been in the weeks following the Turin Olympics, how he couldn't walk around the city normally anymore: the paparazzi appearing out of random corners to photograph him, the fangirls screaming to pet his hair—he had always found that incredibly unsettling—and the lingering feeling that he was constantly being _watched_.

However, there had been some benefits that accompanied the fame, namely in the few sponsorship deals he had managed to land alongside his US teammates. There had also been an onslaught of invitations to glamourous Manhattan parties that he had accepted, but the honour of attending he often passed on to his more-than-willing sister.

Then the hype wore off, and his star faded away again. Even if the sponsorships had been nice, Alec had been beyond thrilled to return to just concentrating on skating. Since he had no time for a job, focusing on skating and training to represent his country was the closest thing to one. The fact that he loved it more than almost anything in the world—besides his family—helped, too.

Now that Vancouver was on the horizon, Alec wasn't sure if he was willing to step back into the spotlight.

They walked a few more minutes in a comfortable silence. The sun was setting, causing the clear sky to darken to a light indigo. Alec was happy that he and his sister hadn't left as early as Clary and Jace did; the two figure skaters had wanted to meet Jocelyn for a quick dinner before heading to the theatre. Alec and Isabelle, on the other hand, had time to train a while longer, and then had decided to walk to the meeting spot from the Penhallows' condo. The chances of them being recognized, they figured, were so slim here in Canada, four years after Turin, that it was worth taking the time to stroll through the city.

Izzy was the first one to speak, wondering aloud when they were only a couple blocks from the meeting spot, "I wonder what Magnus' movie is about?"

Alec stumbled slightly upon hearing the actor's name spoken. He shouldn't have been surprised, though, seeing as they were headed to watch Magnus' new film _Cold World _at TIFF. "You didn't have time to look it up?" he asked.

"No."

Well, Alec thought to himself, of course not, idiot. What with their previous stress of Olympic Trials, followed by the past two hectic days in Toronto, Isabelle almost certainly had no time for leisurely scrolling through entertainment websites. All he had done himself was check a few emails for ISU letters.

"I wish he had talked about it last night," Isabelle said. Alec saw her quickly turn her head towards him before facing forward again.

He scowled. Telling his sister about the rooftop events of the previous night had seemed like a good idea this morning, but now he wasn't sure if he was ready to discuss it again. "Maybe if I had slept with him, he'd have told me the surprise ending!" he snapped.

Isabelle stopped walking abruptly. "Alec, I didn't mean—"

Alec paused midstep, turned to see the genuine apologetic look on his sister's face, and sighed. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," he said softly.

Izzy gave him a withering but forgiving look and continued walking, letting him fall into step beside her before speaking again. "You know, not many people can say that Magnus Bane asked them to come to his hotel room."

Alec didn't say anything.

"I know it was a cheap move, but you could've at least kept his phone number, then you could tell people you have Hollywood on speed dial."

"Iz, in case you forgot, I broke my phone."

"Well, then I'd have Magnus' number. And since people usually say we look alike, I bet Magnus would be more than willing to tap this."

Despite himself, Alec laughed. "Don't tell me you still think he's a good catch."

Isabelle smiled, "Alec, I doubt that _anybody _says no to Magnus Bane. Half of Hollywood is probably dying to get into his pants every second. I sure am. But the fact that you, Superstar Lightwood, refused him, the hot Oscar winner, must have done something to bruise his ego. And now he's probably going to do whatever it takes to heal it."

Alec would've protested at the idea of the hotshot actor's ego being bruised, but he replayed Izzy's last couple sentences in his head. "Wait, did you say he won an Oscar?"

"You didn't know?"

Honestly out of the loop, Alec shook his head.

"He won it last year, for _Downtrodden_. We watched it with Jace and Clary, remember?"

Alec remembered. _Downtrodden _had felt like one of those weird artsy movies where there were long shots of inanimate objects on tables and close-ups of the actors' chins, and then the ending left you scratching your head in confusion as the main characters of the film held hands while staring into the distance. He recalled the story, though, as being somewhat interesting. Magnus had played the lead character, a young father struggling to reconnect with his five-year-old of a daughter. Alec especially remembered a particular scene where Magnus' character had a flashback involving the—quite explicit—conception of said daughter.

He pushed the thought away hastily. "Oh yeah, I remember now," he said a little too quickly.

Isabelle was too caught up in their present whereabouts to notice, however. She was fixing her hair to one side as they neared the next street.

Across the street, a couple doors down from the intersection, a patio was situated on the sidewalk. Unlike the others on either side of it, this blue-roofed one, with the words 'The Cobalt Mug' printed across the threshold, had been blocked off by dark mesh screens, concealing the inside save for a slender opening with a hostess booth that allowed people to go in and out. Clary had said that this was another private restaurant of which Magnus was a member, and he could see why Jocelyn had decided it was the perfect meeting spot. The mesh hid those on the patio, but through the screens, one could probably still see those who passed by.

In other words, Alec could feel Magnus' piercing green gaze on him as he and Isabelle crossed the street and made their way to the patio. Upon reaching it, the host standing at its entrance regarded them stonily. "Names?" she asked.

Alec was about to reply when he heard the voice of Clary's mother from within. The hostess allowed him and Isabelle to step inside, and Alec was pleased to note that globe lamps lit the patio, casting a dim yellow light that was dulled by the mesh screens. Several tall wooden tables stood under the cobalt roof, while inside the actual restaurant, Alec could see larger dining tables and a bar by the back. Looking at the mesh wall on his left, he noticed that he could indeed clearly see the activity on the street while the people outside were obviously oblivious to the people in the patio.

He noticed a wave out of the corner of his eye and saw Jocelyn motioning him to a table near the right wall. Isabelle was already there, talking excitedly with Jace and Clary. And next to them was a tall, slender figure with one hand on his hip, the other swirling a straw in a glass on the table. Alec knew he had been watching him, but he was still unprepared when he met Magnus' cool green eyes across the patio.

"Alexander," the actor said, "we were worried you and your sister were going to be late."

* * *

He ought to think that Alec appeared ridiculous, standing there motionless, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, eyes darting to the floor. Yet despite himself and the absolute hell he had gone through earlier, Magnus thought that the skater looked positively adorable in all his sputtering awkwardness. Being able to bring Alec to speechlessness with only a noncommittal gaze and a generic statement made him incessantly happy.

The fact that the dark ocean hue of Alec's shirt brought out his eyes spectacularly helped a bit as well.

"Strawberry daiquiri, Alec?" Isabelle asked from his side.

Magnus felt it appropriate to make another indifferent comment. "They're quite good. Tastes like sex, this one."

Well, maybe not _that _indifferent.

Alec blushed as he came closer to their small huddle at the side of the patio. Noticing that he was deliberately avoiding meeting his gaze, Magnus leaned over to Jocelyn, continuing to stir his drink, and whispered, "My plan's working."

"I told you not to try anything again," she hissed, eyeing him inconspicuously as Alec's siblings thrust a drink menu in the skater's face.

"His cheeks are red, though. That means my subtle hint got to him."

"Saying 'sex' so blatantly is hardly subtle, Magnus."

"I need to make sure he knows I'm mad. So he'll come crawling to me."

"Oh, please continue your secret meeting there." Jace's obnoxious voice cut through their murmuring loudly. Magnus could have smacked him. "It's not like there are other people here."

Jocelyn, however, appeared to ignore her daughter's boyfriend and placed a hand on Clary's shoulder. Magnus thought the gesture to intend, _Snap at me all you want, but your girlfriend is still my daughter_. His manager turned to face Alec and Isabelle with a smile. "Were you two able to find your way here alright? No problems?"

"Oh, none at all," Isabelle answered for both of them. Alec was tracing the wood patterns on the table with his pinky. "In fact, Alec was smart enough to Google directions before we left."

At the sound of his name, Alec's head jerked up, his eyes wide. Magnus snickered silently, especially when he thought he saw Isabelle wince slightly, possibly from a kick under the table.

"You Googled this place?" It was Clary, still with Jocelyn's hand on her shoulder. "I thought this was private."

"It is," said Jocelyn, "but only because they don't let just anyone in. The name is still public information."

"Well, I for one am delighted to be out of the 'just anyone' grouping now," Jace grinned.

Magnus frowned at him. "She meant _me_. You're all my guests, technically. Though half of you I don't remember inviting."

Jocelyn elbowed him sharply at that, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the group. At least they were gracious enough to say nothing, save for an eyebrow raise from Jace and a frown from Clary. Alec was back to drawing invisible ovals on the table.

His sister, on the other hand, saw the stiff moment as a time to change topic—he might have done so himself, but the way Alec's eyebrows were furrowing at the difficulty of keeping his gaze downward was distracting. Magnus could have kissed her. "So, what're we supposed to expect tonight?" she piped.

Magnus regarded her stylish fuchsia dress, already imagining the appreciative looks she would have received if he actually took them down the red carpet.

"I'm giving Clary the tickets before you go. I tried to secure some more VIP spots, but the agents wanted to know who you were, and I know you all wanted to stay low-profile," Jocelyn said.

Magnus took a big gulp of his daiquiri.

"Ms. Fray." The displeasure in Jace's voice was evident. He was probably still upset about Jocelyn's possessive hold on Clary. "I believe Izzy was asking about the movie itself. And if you couldn't get more special tickets for America's Olympians, you could've just told the truth."

Saving his best friend the trouble of having to answer the bastard, Magnus spoke up. "Actually, Isabelle, in _Cold World _play a character I love more than any of my previous roles."

"Even your character in _Downtrodden_?" Isabelle asked.

Magnus nodded, pleased to note that he now had the attention of everyone in their little group. Even Alec had paused in his wood-tracing, and though his head was still down, he was obviously listening.

"I take it you're going to tell us the whole plot now, right?" Jace drawled.

"I would, but that would spoil the fun." Magnus continued to stir his drink as he spoke. "_Cold World _has a film within a film. The inner film's plot centres around the human incarnation of the Devil, as he slowly wreaks havoc among those around him. The actor who plays the Devil's human form is named Geoffrey, played by yours truly, and basically he goes through this whole Jekyll and Hyde thing where he can't discern acting from reality."

"So it's a horror movie?" asked Clary, eyebrows knit together.

Jocelyn shook her head. "It's a drama, and there's actually very few scary scenes. If anything, suspense, dark dramatic moments..."

Smiling at his friend and taking another sip of his daiquiri, Magnus carried on. "Geoffrey is a really famous celebrity, so the media starts noticing that something's wrong with him, his countenance is off, et cetera. And Geoffrey has a girlfriend, and you can probably guess how the movie is affecting his relationship with her."

"Hey, keep going and you're going to spoil the whole thing!"

The outburst from the patio entrance caused everyone to look over, _Cold World _forgotten. Magnus grinned automatically as Luke Garroway strode across to them, his smile wide amidst the slight scruff on his face and his blue eyes shining. Dressed in a crisp black suit with a stark white shirt, collar open, Magnus thought he looked every bit the director of a film festival headliner. "Magnus, Jocelyn!" he called to them warmly as he got closer.

"Luke, darling." Magnus allowed his director and friend to hug him before Luke moved on to Jocelyn, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

Jace pulled a face before Clary allowed Luke to ruffle her hair slightly—Magnus knew how Luke had always treated the petite figure skater as if she was his own child, and not even just because he was dating Jocelyn.

Random memories surfaced in Magnus' mind before he could push them away: Clary, eleven years old and running lines with him for his first TV guest spot as Luke coached him on how to improve. Luke, carrying Clary across a parking lot because she had gotten blisters after failing to break in her new figure skates, Magnus holding the blood-stained things, one in each hand. Jocelyn, yelling at Magnus for coming home drunk for the first time when he was twenty, and Luke consoling him afterwards, telling him that she would soon start taking him out now that she knew he drank, but really she was just concerned that he'd corrupt her daughter during Clary's first year in high school.

And lastly, Luke wiping his teary eyes when he thought nobody could see after the three of them had dropped Clary off at the airport, on her way to fly to New York to train with the great former Olympian, Maryse Lightwood.

"Earth to Magnus? Shit, he really is an airhead."

That voice jolted him back to the present, and he whirled on Jace. "I have ways to _end _your career, pretty boy."

Jace raised his hands in surrender.

Content with that, Magnus turned to the rest of his company. "Sorry about that, friends, I guess this daiquiri's more spiked than I thought!" Suddenly he realized that Luke had his hand on Alec's shoulder, and Alec was grinning at the director widely.

"Honestly, you probably get this a lot, but I'm a big fan," Luke was saying. "Do people still call you Superstar?"

Alec coloured before wrinkling his nose, a fact that made Magnus want to smother him right then and there. "Not since Turin," the skater said, speaking for the first time that night.

"It'll probably pick up again around January, though," remarked Isabelle. "That's usually when the media starts getting all hyped-up about Winter Olympics."

"Izzy's right, until then, Superstar here's about as hot as dry ice," Jace teased.

Magnus saw the brotherly look that Alec threw Jace for the comment before answering Luke's question himself. "It's true, but I prefer not being recognized. It makes life a little more normal."

He thought he saw Alec's gaze flick his way for a brief second, but it was gone as soon as it had come.

"Oh, please," Isabelle groaned. "Since when have our lives ever been _normal_?"

Alec wrinkled his nose again—the action was so positively endearing. The skater probably would've replied, but at that moment Luke slapped a hand to his forehead as if he had just remembered something. "Aw, I almost forgot! The car's waiting for us outside," he stated, then jogged back out to the street.

As brilliant a director and as loving a sort-of-stepfather Luke may have been, Magnus had always known him to be insanely forgetful. Their standing car was probably being a nuisance to the other vehicles on the busy downtown Toronto street.

Jocelyn fished out some narrow pieces of paper from her purse and dropped them on the table. "Here are your tickets, kids," she rattled out, giving Clary a quick kiss on the cheek. "If we don't see you later, I'll try and catch you tomorrow, 'kay?"

Magnus swiftly downed the rest of his daiquiri before following his manager and director towards the patio exit. He paused at the break in the mesh screens to face the young Olympians. "Enjoy the film, lovelies," he sang, making sure to briefly meet Alec's clear blue eyes before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

Magnus hurried to leap through the open door of the car lest somebody on the street saw him. Although he would have normally loved to greet fans, Luke usually insisted on arriving early to festival premieres before the carpet got too crowded.

While Jocelyn and Luke were discussing something in low voices, Magnus steeled himself, knowing that the next time the car door opened, he'd be stepping out to a red carpet with a barrage of press and fans waiting by the theatre.

He only hoped that he'd have time later tonight to try and catch Alec again.

* * *

_**JOSEPH: **(Sitting in car, cell phone in hand.) Hey man, I just wanted to tell you, great job on the set today. I can't wait to see what that office scene looks like after editing._

_ Cut to GEOFFREY'S APARTMENT._

_**GEOFFREY**: (Standing at window. His phone is to his ear.) Thanks, Joe. Yeah, I think it's gonna look great._

_ Cut back to car. Shots to switch with speakers._

_**JOSEPH: **Of course it will, you're fucking brilliant._

_**GEOFFREY: **(Laughs.) Shut up, man._

_**JOSEPH: **Really, Geoff. I'm starting to think I should try method acting a bit more. Seems to be working for you._

_**GEOFFREY: **I only do it 'cause it helps me. You know, like, uh... It helps with the character._

_**JOSEPH: **Helps with the _character_? It fucking better. How the hell does it even work when you're channelling the fucking Devil?_

_**GEOFFREY: **(Teasing.) You know, you just, um, think evil stuff. Like skeletons._

_**JOSEPH: **Skeletons? _

_**GEOFFREY: **Yeah, and like... I don't know. Dead babies._

_**JOSEPH: **That's gross, man. _

_**GEOFFREY: **Yeah, sorry 'bout that. _

_**JOSEPH: **Listen, Geoff, I gotta go, but wanna go for drinks later?_

_**GEOFFREY: **(warily) Drinks?_

_**JOSEPH: **Yeah, drinks. You can bring Kristi. _

_**GEOFFREY: **Kristi? (walks over to nightstand, where KRISTI's picture is framed) Yeah... Yeah, I'll bring her._

_**JOSEPH: **Alright, man. See ya later._

_**GEOFFREY: **See you. (He hangs up, drops phone on bed.)_

_ **GEOFFREY **picks up KRISTI's picture. He stares at it. He is wearing a blank expression. He slowly replaces picture to nightstand after a few moments. He goes to bathroom, takes off sweater. He stares at himself in mirror, his eyes are wide._

_ Zoom in on arms. There are long cuts across both forearms, bruises near elbows. _

_ Zoom back out to mirror. **GEOFFREY **stares at arms. He looks confused. He looks more closely at himself in mirror. Zoom out to face, reflection in mirror out of shot. His eyes are wide._

_**GEOFFREY: **(whispering to himself a little crazily, note of fear in voice) Thought I removed my contacts..._

_ Zoom in to mirror. **GEOFFREY's **reflection is smirking._

* * *

Alec turned the sink's right faucet all the way, running his hands under the stream before splashing the ice-cold water on his face. He popped his head up to his reflection in the mirror and observed the way the frigid water made his cheeks even redder, as if they weren't heated up enough.

A man came over from the urinals to the sinks counter. Alec barely spared him a glance, knowing he probably looked ridiculous dousing his face with water in a public bathroom. His shirt probably got spattered, too. Beautiful.

He knew he should get back to the theatre lobby; Isabelle and Jace and Clary were probably wondering what was taking him so long. But just as he was about to pull away from the sink, images of a slender, tan abdomen and sharp green cat's eyes flashed through his mind. Alec grunted loudly, probably scaring the man next to him, and he splashed his face again in an effort to cool himself down.

The man left, leaving Alec alone in the restroom. He threw another handful of water on his face before shutting the faucet off. He tottered to the paper towel dispenser and pulled out around ten, rubbing his face vigorously with the rough white sheets before tossing the damp ball of paper in the garbage.

He regarded himself in the mirror before leaving. He was acting ridiculous, he knew that, but he also didn't think there was any other possible way for him to react after that _damn movie._

_Cold World _wasn't good—it was great. _Fantastic_. Even if he wasn't exactly a master film critic, he did know that this was more than just another strange artsy movie. For one thing, he actually cried, an action he was certain only Isabelle saw and wished to keep a secret. He couldn't have helped it; that hospital scene was brutal.

For another thing, the audience had erupted into massive applause once the screen went dark. He was certain he had seen Magnus taking a bow near the front row.

After that, Alec had mumbled an excuse to his sister and nearly tripped over Jace as he bolted out of the theatre.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Alec made sure his cheeks had somewhat returned to their regular paleness. They were still a tad pink, but he figured there was no way he could completely cool down until they had gone back to the Penhallows' condo. With that, he strode out of the restroom door and into the adjoining anteroom, which Alec thought to be ridiculously unnecessary since its walls were each about seven feet long.

And then he saw Magnus, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "Enjoy the movie?" he asked.

Alec let the restroom door swing shut behind him. The sparkling pinstripes of Magnus' tux twinkled in the anteroom's dim light. After seeing him in the movie, the actor suddenly seemed much too big for the small room. Knowing full well that this was the second time they had been alone together, Alec said quietly, "Yeah, it was good."

The actor was smirking. "I stand by my earlier statement that Geoffrey's one of my personal favourite roles."

"Well, you played him good. Well, I mean."

Magnus' green eyes locked on his, and with one step forward the actor was in his comfort zone. Inches apart, Alec could feel Magnus' breath on his face. "Your approval means the _world_ to me, Alexander."

His breath was quickening, and Alec felt it hitch as Magnus ran a hand down his arm like he had done the other night. Alec could feel the actor leaning in, saw the hungry look in his eyes as they didn't move from his own—

Alec leaped away before anything could happen. There was no way he was falling for that again.

Magnus was wearing a surprised, confused expression. "Alec, I didn't mean—"

"Oh Lord, _there _you are!"

The relief Alec felt at Luke's sudden arrival was colossal. Granted, with three people in the anteroom he was sure a door would get slammed on somebody anytime soon.

"Magnus, our publicist has us set for a press conference in five minutes!" the director reported. "Mr. Lightwood." He nodded in his direction before returning outside. When the door opened, the noise of a full lobby drifted in.

Alec glanced down at his feet, willing Magnus to leave before he himself did, hoping to high heavens that this would be the last time anything like this would happen. Determined to ensure it, he mustered up the courage he usually only got from skating. "Stop this... this... whatever the hell you keep trying to do here! I'm not just some cheap whore!" he spat out as he met Magnus' eyes again, surprising himself with his forwardness.

The actor, it seemed, was just as shocked. He stared at Alec with a strange, blank expression in his eyes. Alec panicked for a brief moment, wondering what would happen next. However, the moment passed as, mouth set in a grim line, Magnus stuck his chin out and opened the door slowly, stalking outside.

Breathing heavily, Alec counted to thirty before reaching for the door handle to exit and find his siblings.

Then he spun around swiftly, pulling the opposite door open and rushing back into the restroom for some more cold water.

* * *

_A/N: Meta reference: the ISU is the International Skating Union, the international governing body of skating (figure skating, speed skating, short track, and synchronized)._

_I'm allowed to poke fun of Canadians because I am one. Maple leaf forever._

_TIFF 2013 ends in a couple days, but this Toronto part isn't over yet! Chapter 4 is on its way - in the meantime, drop a review if you wish. I love you all for sticking with me so far!_


	4. Chapter 4

_September 16, 2009_

The harsh glare of Isabelle's iPad illuminated the living room, and Alec blinked his eyes in order to adjust to the sudden brightness. Perched on the armrest of the Penhallows' leather couch, Alec opened up Chrome and typed the address for Wikipedia in the omnibox.

It was 4:50 in the morning, and Alec hadn't gotten much sleep during the night. He had come back to the Penhallow condo with Isabelle, Jace, and Clary at half past midnight, immediately collapsing onto the bed in the spare room he was sharing with Jace. Regretfully, he had snapped awake a mere three hours later and had been up ever since then.

He only decided to check something on the Internet because he figured there was still some time before the rest of his family woke up. His mournful lack of a cell phone brought him to his sister's iPad from where she had left it on the coffee table in the living room.

Although he knew what he was searching for, Alec still didn't want to admit it to himself. Especially not this early in the morning when he wasn't sure if his mind was in the right place.

He entered his query in the Wikipedia search box, pressing 'Done' and allowing the page to load. Once it had, Alec took care to read each word of the opening paragraphs carefully, allow each little bit of information from the right side box to sink into his head. Scrolling downwards, he went through _Early Life_, for which there was a small paragraph reflecting the brutal truth of the discussion from the other night. _Career _was miles long in comparison. Alec expected as much.

What he didn't expect was _Personal Life_, which only included two sentences:

_'Bane is openly bisexual._

_He briefly dated actor/philanthropist Woolsey Scott and was in a long-term relationship with actress Camille Belcourt until 2007.'_

Alec wrinkled his nose. He knew Magnus was obviously unattached now, but the lack of previous relationships indicated on Wikipedia contrasted greatly with his assumption that the actor was a playboy. Unless, of course, he only slept with people, never actually dated except for the two people stated.

Alec fleetingly wondered what made them so special.

At that moment, he heard a door swing open in the quiet of the condo, footsteps approaching from the bedroom hallway. Quickly, he closed the tab and shut the iPad off. He stood up from the couch and paused as Jace came into view.

"... the hell?" his brother's sleepy voice asked.

The article from Wikipedia flashed through Alec's mind again, and he couldn't think of a reasonable response.

Jace rubbed at his eyes. "Whatever, let's get the lights on so we can cook some breakfast."

As he moved to turn on the condo lights, Alec tried to push any lingering thoughts of the actor away. With any luck, he wouldn't have to see him again. If Clary had her mom get them any more tickets to TIFF, he could always make up some excuse about training or something else.

There were more important things to worry about, after all.

* * *

"Luke said he's meeting with George later tonight, and he thinks George might be bringing that Italian girl with him."

"Really, now?"

"Yeah, I bet the press would have a field day if they knew she was here."

Magnus poked at his eggs florentine thoughtfully. "I wonder why he hasn't brought her on the red carpet this week."

"He's probably trying to keep the relationship on the down-low," Jocelyn said in answer. She and Magnus were sat on the couch in his suite, picking at some breakfast he had ordered from room service.

"Um, so what was Venice?" scoffed Magnus.

"Venice?"

"They were all over each other just two weeks ago! Or do you not remember that one night in the club?"

"I remember the official pictures, I didn't think they were at all vulgar."

"Well, honey, of course they weren't vulgar in _public_."

Jocelyn was wearing an incredulous expression. "It truly amazes me, the kind of dirt you have on some people."

"Dirt? On George?" Magnus chuckled. "You know he's a good friend. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him or his career."

"Of course I know that," his manager chided him lightly. "If it wasn't for me, Luke wouldn't have introduced you two and you wouldn't be stalking him like a love-struck puppy."

"I do not _stalk _him." Magnus tried his best to look offended, even if he was still in his yellow silk pajamas.

"Magnus, you're saying that having your manager track his every audition and attempt to secretly book you co-starring roles isn't stalking."

Magnus couldn't stop himself from smiling. "And that's why you're the best!"

Jocelyn rolled her eyes, grinning herself. "Anyway, Luke told me to ask you if you wanted to accompany him. I actually think it might be more of a sponsored after-party, so you'll be able to garner some good press tonight."

On any other morning, Magnus would never have turned down a party invitation, especially one for a sponsored after party during an International Film Festival. However, the events from the previous night were weighing down on him heavily, and he couldn't shake them off.

Jocelyn must have noticed his sudden change in countenance. "What's wrong? Are you thinking of actually not going?"

Biting his lip, Magnus exhaled loudly before explaining his encounter with Alec Lightwood in the men's bathroom after his film. His friend listened with an unreadable expression on her face, her brow furrowing when he finished his recounting of the incident, ending with Alec's biting words before he had left for the press conference. She cocked her head to the side. "Well, I guess Alec has a little more spite than we thought," she muttered. "Though, it was a touch rude..."

"A _touch_? I'd be furious at him, if it wasn't _him_."Magnus threw his hands up in exasperation, nearly knocking down his tray-table and the half-finished breakfast that was on it. "I ruined it! I so totally ruined everything!" he cried. "Now how the hell am I supposed to woo him?"

"Woo? You sound like a knight pining over a damsel in distress."

"Jocelyn! I'm serious!"

His manager stared at him with her clear green eyes, and he hoped he was effectively channelling his honest frustration through his own frantic stare. "I know you are," she said finally. "I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"And I love you for trying." Magnus brought his head forward and tugged at his hair angrily. "Why am I like this? What's going on?"

He felt a reassuring hand begin rubbing circles on his back. "I think you need a distraction. Why don't you come with me to Ajax, I can call a car, make sure nobody's going to be there—"

"But Alec's going to be there, isn't he?"

Jocelyn fidgeted. "Yeah," she breathed. "He'll be there."

Magnus groaned aloud, contemplating the possibility of ordering some tequila to the room once his friend left.

"That doesn't mean you have to talk to him. In my opinion, though, you should. Clary would be horrified if she ever discovers this drama you two are having."

"It's hardly a drama. We've only ever had two actual conversations." _Whiskey might be a stronger buzz, though..._

He yelped as Jocelyn pulled him to his feet. "I know you're thinking of getting drunk once I leave. Don't think I haven't put up with you for ten years and gained nothing of it." She dragged him to his bedroom. "Now get changed out of those ridiculous pj's."

Magnus was about to protest when Jocelyn laid down the ultimatum. "If you don't come with me, I'm dropping my leads on George."

His closet door squealed as he viciously wrenched it open.

* * *

_POP!_

The shotgun went off, and Alec was pushing off his right leg in an effort to get ahead of his sister. This final 500m sprint at the end of training was what finally allowed him to clear his head and just _go_.

People called it running, the initial rush to and around the first turn. He knew it as a swift manipulation of his tailored skates to propel himself forward. On the first long stretch, he gained a couple yards on her—he expected it, he was longer and leaner, but he knew that they were both moving at record-breaking speeds.

Six strides—_left, right, left, right—_and he was approaching the next turn. Left hand automatically out to steady himself, he was able to take it without grazing the ice with his fingers, an action that could tend to occur but was never really necessary.

Third lap, and he was several yards ahead of Izzy by now. And yet, he was still flying on the momentum he needed to careen around the next bend gracefully, his skates sending a sheet of thin snow flying behind him.

Final lap. _Left, right, left, right, left_. He couldn't stop himself from sticking a hand out around the last bend, but he still kept speed, shooting across the finish line.

His sister followed him, slowing down to join him in a rest lap once she had crossed.

Their dad give a shout from the sidelines. "Alec! Beautiful, there—41 point 811 seconds!"

Alec chest was heaving in and out, his hands resting on his hips as he attempted to catch his breath. He came to a stop near Robert's position by the side and accepted the proffered water bottle. "Yeah, 'kay," he let out, nodding.

41.811 seconds. It was great, not as great as his Vienna 39.987, but that had been miraculous.

His father clapped him on the shoulder, glancing up as Isabelle approached. "Iz, 44 point 250."

Isabelle snatched her own bottle from the ledge and took too big a gulp for immediately post-sprint. She managed a grimace, her dark eyes cloudy from behind her purple training glasses.

Alec gave her what he hoped she interpreted as an apologetic look. Their father had always prized his son's achievements over anything Isabelle did, ever since they had just started. Alec had begun his training first, being three years older than his sister at 12, but she had started two years later when she was 11. Although their parents had been a little wary at first—especially Maryse, who had been hoping for a figure skating legacy in both her daughter and adopted son—she had insisted on training alongside her big brother.

Since then, their father had been their coach. Alec and Isabelle trained everyday, even during high school, forced to give up most of their weekends and drive to the arena. As a result, they were somewhat alienated from their classmates, but they made their own friends from skating meets and state training sessions. Spending so much time with each other also made them closer than most siblings.

When Jace was still a solo act and he suddenly started dating a redheaded figure skater he met at a meet, Maryse had leaped at the opportunity to train the two as pairs competitors. The fact that their mother had been absolutely thrilled at finally having a female figure skater to coach was not lost on anybody.

Alec had always been aware of Isabelle's jealousy when it came to the attention of their parents. It was why she tried to gain attention by other means: piercing her cartilage, getting a tattoo—although _he _was hardly one to talk on that point—dressing in garish outfits. He knew she didn't blame him or Jace or Clary for any of it, but he still felt incredibly guilty.

"With a time like this, I won't be surprised if that podium in Vancouver already has your name on it, Superstar!" Robert boomed, crossing his arms so the TEAM USA logo on his windbreaker was covered.

"I won't be surprised if that podium isn't built yet," Alec muttered, but their father didn't hear.

"Celski's coach gave me a call a few minutes ago, asked if the team could meet when we get back to New York." Robert's voice turned the question into an already affirmed statement.

Alec nodded, taking a small sip of his water. He almost forgot about the relay practices. "Sure, sure."

"The relay's going to kick ass. That's two medals locked in for you!" their father was positively beaming, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he proclaimed his confidence to the whole empty arena. "And if you hold on to the other two races, we're looking at six Olympic medals, Superstar."

Alec's nose wrinkled as he looked down at his skates. He was eager to shift the post-training session conversation to Isabelle, especially since she had been silent the whole time. "Iz did well too, Dad," he said, mentally kicking himself for being so obvious.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Nice work today, Iz." Robert gave his daughter a short nod before striding out of the arena, pulling out his cell phone to probably call on Celski's coach.

"You don't have to try," Isabelle said once their father had made it to the arena lobby. She laughed shortly. "Besides, he didn't even help us out."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Here, one sec." He skated to the rink gate and leaned over to unhook the latch, allowing the gate to swing open. Hopping onto the rubber mats, he waited for his sister to join him before closing the gate again. He glanced out over the rink, now clear of pylons, but marked everywhere by blue and red spray, small piles of snow scattered around from where their skates had sheared the ice.

"I love this with my life, you know," Isabelle remarked suddenly.

Alec looked at his sister quizzically. "I know you do, Iz. Everybody knows it."

She sighed. "And you love it, right?"

"Of course. What's this about?"

"It's just, I..." She seemed to be searching for the right thing to say. "I know how much pressure Dad's putting on you, and then with everything that's going on now... But nobody's putting the pressure on me, and I think that's why I'm not as scared for Vancouver as I know I should be."

Alec stared at his sister, confused but a little impressed.

"I just don't want other people to dictate your performance," she said, vindictive.

Smiling at his sister, Alec pulled her into a quick hug that expressed all the thanks he knew she did. Before he pulled away, however, she whispered, "I'm not just talking about Dad, either."

Alec chose to ignore the last comment, and he and Isabelle quickly replaced the guards on the skates before stepping to their respective change rooms.

Once inside, Alec let his legs give out as he plunked himself on a bench by the lockers. He pulled his skates off one by one, taking care to wipe their blades before replacing the guards and tossing them into his skate bag. Ripping off his gloves, helmet, and glasses, he then shucked off his skinsuit so that he could make his way to the showers and rinse away the grime of the day's training.

The heated water from the showerhead hit him, and he put his face in his hands to try to clear his mind but Isabelle's earlier words had struck some sort of cord in him. He couldn't put the thought of pressure not just from his country, but from his father, to win.

The thought of being more fearful of his dad was horribly twisted.

Turin, he thought, had been a dream. A pleasant escape from reality where everything was fresh and exciting, and all the world's prospects were available to him, an 18-year-old speed skater from New York City.

Longer races had always been his specialty, even when he had just started out. Although he didn't make it past the initial rounds for the 1000 and—God help him—the 500m, he desperately pushed towards giving the world a show once he made it through his heat for the 1500m.

Then semifinals came, and he won that. Alec remembered the crowd cheering, and he remembered disbelieving that this international crowd in Italy could be raising their voices in support of an American teenager—a rookie Olympian.

When he was the first across the finish line during the Finals, he recalled everything dulled down to a blur and a roar. The blur was the massive wave of people in the stands, dressed in their nations' colours, and cheering for this kid who had just won Gold in an Olympic event. The roar was his heart thundering like a racehorse, having done three high-calibre races within the past couple hours. Even Robert screaming madly from the sidelines, Izzy, still a high-schooler, jumping up and down in giddy excitement, were part of the blur.

The massive significance of everything didn't really dawn on him until the awards ceremonies, after he and the rest of Team USA had scooped up the Gold for the 5000m relay. Bowing down to have this weighted disk on a ribbon placed around his neck, standing in between two foreigners who were smiling at him despite having lost to him, Alec suddenly realized that he was now an Olympic medallist. An Olympic _Gold _medallist.

The win on the relay had been a team effort, and really, he loved the rest of the team. But the fact that he had been able to achieve such a high honour in front of the world scared him shitless. All corners of the globe had their eyes on him, and being suddenly thrust into the limelight by purely doing what he loved most was what finally brought the tears to his eyes as he stood on that podium.

He wasn't a big crier, so he didn't make racking sobs in front of the whole world. No, the media capitalized on the "absolute awe and wonder" in his eyes, because "18-year-old Alec Lightwood from New York City shone on the world stage of the Olympics like the brightest star in the sky". He always thought that dead poets would be rolling in their graves at some of the media's silly phrases. And then "America's Superstar" was casually used by a reporter the next day, and Alec began to see the true nature of the Olympics.

_Superstar Lightwood_. Alec was never that keen on the name. He tolerated it and the media's excessive usage of it, but he never really accepted it. Being America's Superstar meant that the whole nation, and then some, were suddenly so interested in getting as close as they could to his personal space. In the months following Turin, he hadn't been left alone at all, save for the plane ride back to New York from Italy. Even then, the kid kicking the back of his seat hadn't stopped until Alec had given him an autograph.

Fame was weird. Fleeting as it may have been, it made him feel like a commodity rather than an athlete. He remembered the insane pressure, the invasion of privacy. There were multiple interviews, TV spots, and press conferences where he implored the country to see the simple fact: He loved to skate, had always loved it, and his sheer passion was what won him the Gold. Plain and simple. Now can everybody move along, please.

But even if the country moved along once the Olympic hype wore down, he hadn't. Willing himself to do himself—and his perfectionist father—better and better, he killed himself training and competing at World Championships and other ISU meets. Vancouver was looming like a dark cloud on the horizon.

Deciding that he had run the arena of enough hot water for the day, Alec shut the shower off and towelled dry, walking back to the lockers to throw on jeans and a dark sweater. Slinging his skate bag over his shoulder, he shuffled out of the change room to make his way to the arena lobby where he had hoped to find the rest of his family, but knew they would probably be elsewhere.

Not surprisingly, the lobby was devoid of people. Isabelle, he thought, was probably still fixing herself up in the change room. Alec wandered to the viewing windows for the second rink where Jace and Clary were training. He was able to catch them just as they executed a perfect throw jump, Clary landing gracefully as Jace continued skating.

At the sidelines stood Alec's mother, Maryse, and next to her was Robert. They seemed to be talking about something—although Maryse was facing her pair, they were likely not the subject of the conversation, judging by Robert's excited and violent gesticulations. To his surprise, he saw Clary's mother, Jocelyn, standing next to his own parents. The way she was watching her daughter skate, enthralled, made it clear that she was not a part of the discussion.

Wrinkling his nose, Alec decided to leave the arena and wait for his family outside. Once he emerged from the doors, he gazed across the nearly empty parking lot where one of the Penhallows' chauffeured cars was parked. Mysteriously, there was another tinted car parked closer to the arena. Figuring somebody could have just called for a separate ride, he ignored it.

To his left was a long concrete bench; Alec made his way over and dropped his bag to the ground, sinking himself down to sit.

No sooner had he sat down than he glanced to his right and saw none other than Magnus Bane unhitch himself from the far wall and slowly walk over. "You know, you're really not all that observant. I was standing there the whole time," he said simply.

Alec flew up from the bench. "Why are you here?" he snapped.

The actor shrugged, smirking. The bastard. "What's wrong with getting an advanced look at America's Superstar?"

At that, Alec stiffened. He wasn't all that witty or great with words, but at the moment, he was livid. "Listen, I'm sick and tired of you coming up to me in all these random places. Frankly, it's creepy."

Magnus' face was expressionless as he remained silent.

He decided it was all or nothing. "And to tell you the truth, I can't believe that you thought I was just gonna be your next one-night stand. I told you last night that I'm not some cheap whore looking for a lay, and I meant it."

"Harshly hateful use of phrasing, but I never thought you to be a cheap whore, Alexander."

Alec's head jerked up, momentarily stunned by Magnus' words. Something had changed in his expression, and his face no longer held the telltale signs of flirting and mockery.

The actor held up his slender hands in a gesture of surrender. "No seductions anymore, I promise," he said with a small smile, this time one that seemed a touch genuine.

Alec was still slightly suspicious, though.

"It's fine if you don't believe me. I just wanted to talk," said Magnus. He took another step and sat down on the bench by Alec's skate bag. "Jocelyn came here to see Clary and she dragged me along. I didn't want to, of course."

The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Why not?"

Magnus fixed him with his green gaze. "I was afraid of talking to you," he said, not unkindly.

Alec's brow furrowed. "Afraid?"

Magnus seemed to think about his answer carefully before giving it. "Jocelyn thought we should talk so we can sort out whatever the hell this is that's happening between us. I knew you'd be steadfastly adverse to the idea, as you should be. You have every right to be angry with me."

Mouth set in a stiff line, Alec observed the tall man on the bench. Magnus was dressed in cobalt blue jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket, a pink checkered scarf wrapped around his neck. As much as Alec wanted to be angry with him, there was no way he could take him too seriously.

Perhaps his face betrayed Alec's lack of animosity, for Magnus chuckled. "You should be angry, but if you can't be it's okay. I won't judge." His normal teasing had taken on a lighter tone, one that was less condescending and more natural. "Though... I can't say I approved of the slut-shaming implication."

"I never meant—"

"Using the phrase 'cheap whore'? Alexander, I'm merely wondering why you would do so."

"You don't know me."

"I'd like to."

Alec looked Magnus right in his eyes. While the atmosphere was relatively sober, he decided to get the most basic question out of the way first. "I... I'm just clarifying. You _were _asking me to sleep with you the other night, right?"

Magnus laughed. It was a bright, ringing sound that wasn't at all superficial, wasn't at all the kind of laugh Alec had expected from a Hollywood celebrity. "Of course, I was, sweetie!"

"Really?" He had expected as much, but still. The clarification made everything even more astounding.

"Of course." Magnus fixed him with a questioning look. "Why, you _have _gotten offers like that before, haven't you?"

Alec saw that their conversation was nearing the point of no return. But just like in a race, he charged forward without a backward glance. "Technically... no, I haven't."

The actor's eyes widened. "No!"

Alec nodded.

"Seriously? Even after the Olympics?"

"Well, it's just... Before... I don't know." Alec found himself pacing back and forth in front of the bench. "Maybe I have, but I never really took them for what they were."

Magnus' voice took on a serious tone again. "In other words, you didn't think yourself worthy of affection, so you accepted none."

Alec stopped pacing and stared at the actor. Magnus' eyes were full of understanding and honest sympathy, that Alec had no choice but to take the actor's words for what they were in that they held buckets of truth. "I... I, well... I'm new to all of this," he stammered.

"So that night on the garden must have freaked you out," Magnus murmured. "I'm sorry, Alec."

He wasn't sure if he heard right.

Magnus must have suspected as much. "I really am, Alec. I think you deserve to be shown respect and compassion. I gave you none of that the other night, and I apologize for that."

Alec was too stunned to say anything. Realizing that his jaw was hanging loose, he snapped his mouth shut.

"Though, I truly am shocked to discover you haven't been hit on before." Magnus' voice was back to its light nature. Alec was beginning to take to the actor's honest jibes. "Not even in the orgies of Olympic Village?"

Alec was thrown by the bluntness of the question. The Turin village wasn't something he was ready to discuss with anybody just yet. "I wasn't even out then," he said in lieu.

At that, Magnus raised an eyebrow.

Realizing the many implications of what he had said, Alec hurried to correct himself. "Oh, no! I'm still not out, actually... And I'm gay, by the way." He would win an award in awkward confessions. "Yeah, I'm gay, but only Isabelle, Jace, and Clary know. My parents are clueless, they'd probably kill me if they found out." He winced. "Especially my dad."

Magnus appeared to consider the information thoughtfully. After a few moments, he muttered, "I'll never understand these convoluted athlete troubles."

"I'll tell you when I do," Alec quipped, trying to match the actor.

Magnus gave a small smile. "You're..." he started, looking as if he couldn't think of the next word. Instead, he shook his head. "I'll just say this: When I came out, I won an Emmy."

Alec laughed, surprising himself but finding it was the most natural thing to do.

Right at that moment, the arena door opened and Jocelyn swept out. "C'mon, Magnus. Luke just called, he wants you to do a quick interview with him for the _Toronto Star_. We have to leave now if we don't want to be late." She gave Alec a strange look, but waved at him before running to their car.

Magnus stood up from the bench in a fluid motion. "I guess that's my cue," he said, smiling down at Alec. "Hopefully I'll see you at the Awards Ceremonies?"

"Awards Ceremonies?" Alec asked.

"In three days. They'll give out audience choice awards and some other stuff." Magnus' eyes as he looked into Alec's had lost the raw hunger and intimidation they had held the previous night.

Alec could only manage a short nod. "Yeah, yeah I'll see you then," he breathed.

Magnus gave him one more soft smile, so different from the pearly whites he usually flashed before the press.

The next instant, the actor and his manager were tearing off across the Ajax parking lot and heading for Toronto.

Behind him, Alec could hear the arena door open and excited voices as his family emerged.

"We've got a real nice chance here, Alec. Even you," came Jace's voice as he came forward to clap him on the back.

Yeah, Alec thought.

_Even me._

* * *

"Hey, there. That's your tenth shot tonight, maybe it's time to call it quits for you. I'll call a cab."

Magnus shook his head at his director before downing another shot of tequila. "No way," he sniped. "I need to get absolutely slamming drunk before I make a really stupid decision."

"You're already on your eleventh one, how are you _not _drunk yet?"

"You should know I'm not a lightweight."

Even in his drunken haze, he could still sense Luke's concern after all those years. "Magnus, I hope you're not thinking about anything dangerous here."

"Nope." Magnus took another shot. "Tomorrow, I'm going to ask someone out on a date."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry if this chapter felt a little filler-ish! Drop a review below if you can, any type of feedback is greatly appreciated. :)_

_Chapter Five is coming soon!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: See, I haven't forgotten about this fic, oh anonymous reviewer! :)_

* * *

_September 17, 2009_

They never stopped to rest at traffic lights, a habit that had carried on from their early years of high school. Thankfully, the relatively quiet district Aline had recommended to them was blissfully devoid of the heavy Toronto traffic that would have met them if they had gone running downtown. Jogging in place, Alec and his sister waited before the crosswalk sign cleared them to go before running across the street, headed towards a cluster of low stone warehouses where Aline said a quaint little café served the best bagels.

Alec yanked his headphones out of his ears as they neared a row of sidewalk patios, cutting off VNV Nation mid-song. He slowed down to a brisk walk, Isabelle matching his pace beside him, and he busied himself with removing his armband and the iPod he had borrowed from Jace.

Breathing returning to normal, Alec examined the patio signs for the name Aline had mentioned to them, leading Isabelle to an old-fashioned gated section at the corner of the street. The café appeared to have just opened, one of the workers still taking out chairs from inside to place around the wooden tables on the patio.

Isabelle marched to a table for two furthest away from the sidewalk, partially hidden from the street by a low bush. After he sat down next to his sister, she signalled the worker still setting up outside.

Rolling his ankles under his chair, Alec allowed his sister to order them some water while he perused the small framed menu on the table. "So, how many bagels with cream cheese do you think we need to order to meet our minimum caloric count?" he joked.

Isabelle squinted at the menu. "Relax," she said, "We already had some fruit earlier."

"Hardly substantial sustenance for an entire morning."

"Well, we can afford to skimp on breakfast for one day," Isabelle stated. "Let's lay off the eggs for once."

"Dad would have a heart attack if knew about this."

"Why, what did you tell him?"

"That we're finding our own way to Ajax and eating a proper breakfast there."

Isabelle grinned. "Which we are doing, by the way."

"Iz, we'd clear out their entire inventory if we actually ate what was required."

The door of the café opened and the waiter emerged with their waters.

Alec eyed the expansive list of bagel flavours thoughtfully, deciding that he could take a break from their usual mammoth breakfasts for one day this week. He'd just chug some Monster if he lost energy in the afternoon.

Ten minutes later, their table was crowded with nearly a dozen different kinds of bagels, and the waiter was setting a rack of cream cheese and jams to the side along with a stack of napkins. Alec had to admit, beholding the plethora of pure carbs before him was slightly refreshing. Reaching for the cream cheese, Alec couldn't help but notice that his sister looked just as thrilled. "Excited?" he asked.

She was spreading jam on her own bagel with rapid strokes. "You have no idea how long it's been since I've had white bread."

"Whole wheat's not that bad."

"I like white better."

Alec hummed in response, sighing inwardly as he took the first bite of his bagel.

"Personally, I don't see anything wrong with eating a little white toast every so often."

"Dad would shoot you if he heard that."

His sister glared at him. "I'm sure when he was our age nobody cared about what type of bread they were eating."

Alec considered that. "But when he was our age, I don't think speed skating was as competitive."

"Oh, don't talk to me about being competitive." Isabelle narrowed her dark eyes at him. "We both know you never used to be as stringent with your diet until after Turin."

In turn, Alec gave her a reproachful look.

She continued, "Before that, you never were so concerned about the medals or the records. Actually, yesterday was the first time in so long that I've seen you look the least bit uncomfortable with the idea of getting up on the podium again."

As much as he wanted to protest, Alec knew she was right. "... It's different now," he managed to say.

"Different, as in it's not all about the skating anymore?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "Or different, as in there's something distracting you and suddenly medals are second place in your mind. Forgive the pun."

Alec chuckled despite himself. "If you're insinuating what I think you are, I don't want to talk about it. Or him, more accurately."

"I saw you two talking yesterday."

Alec nearly spit out his mouthful of bagel. "_You did_?" he asked, incredulous.

Isabelle nodded. "I didn't tell anybody, though. I came out of the change room and saw you guys outside. I figured you would've wanted some privacy, so I went to watch Jace and Clary until they finished up."

Alec took a long gulp of his water, mulling over this new piece of information.

"So, what did you guys talk about?"

Glancing at his sister, Alec saw nothing in her dark eyes that betrayed harmful intentions. She was always so incredibly trustworthy, and he knew eventually she'd weasel the conversation out of him. "He wanted to apologize."

"_Apologize_?"

Alec tried his best to relay the words he and Magnus had exchanged yesterday while his sister took it all in, chewing quietly on her next bagel. When he had finished, a small smile crept up on her face. "It seems like you guys are best buds now," she said.

"Please don't say that."

She laughed. "It's fine, I'm not interested in making you uncomfortable this early in the day." She shifted in her seat. "Let's talk about something else for a change—so Celski's coach called yesterday about the relay?"

Alec's back straightened automatically as the topic switched to skating, an action he was sure Isabelle didn't miss. "Yeah, we're getting together as soon as we're back in New York."

"You sound excited."

"I can't help it," Alec grinned. "I'm feeling really good about our chances in the relay."

"Any idea who's anchor?"

"Well, it was supposed to be Apolo, but now..." The fact hit him for the first time in that instant. "I guess it's me."

Isabelle whistled. "Superstar Lightwood's bringing home the Gold on the final stretch then!" she teased.

Alec shook his head, dismissing his sister's playful use of the nickname. "Not if Germany can help it," he muttered.

That March, at the World Short Track Speed Skating Championships in Vienna, the US team had come in a close second to the team from Germany. Alec had raced the first leg, so he had felt immensely guilty for having given his team a bad start. After the race, though, he re-watched the last leg with his teammates and observed the ruthlessness of the German anchor, Sebastian Verlac, as he conquered Apolo within the last few yards in powerful, determined strides.

Alec had never forgotten the hungry look in Verlac's eyes when their teams stood beside each other to accept their awards.

"Right, I forgot about Germany," Isabelle said. "What was that anchor's name again?"

"Verlac," Alec answered without missing a beat. "Sebastian Verlac."

"Verlac," his sister repeated. "Well, at least you don't have to see him again 'til Vancouver." Finishing her bagel, she glanced at the time on her phone. "_Shit_, we're late!"

"What?" Alec stood abruptly. "What time is it?"

"8:43!" Isabelle moved to rush into the café. "I'll pay, just get some napkins so we can take the leftover bagels to-go!"

As it turned out, taking half a dozen bagels to-go meant that they were forced to practically inhale the bread as they booked it on foot to the Penhallows' stadium. It was less than twenty minutes away at their brisk pace, but Robert had told them to be dressed and ready for training by eight-thirty. Alec knew they were going to get it for their tardiness, and he was hoping for nine o'clock at best. With the anxiety of their impending lecture clouding his mind, along with juggling his takeout food on one arm and fiddling with Jace's armband in another, Alec nearly got hit by a passing driver.

Izzy pulled him back to the sidewalk at the last second with a shout at the motorist. "Hey! You almost killed America's greatest athlete!"

"Iz, really." Alec was busying himself with checking for more traffic before jaywalking across the street, his sister close behind.

"The loser should crash and burn."

Alec's strides grew quicker and longer as the Ajax stadium came into view. "They say the same thing when it comes to speed skating," he muttered.

"Alec, that hardly applies to you."

"Or you."

Izzy stopped abruptly. "Tell that to Dad."

Alec glared at his sister, partly because he wanted to assure her that as a world-class Olympian she was every bit the "Superstar" he was, and partly because they really couldn't afford to burn more time. "Iz, please don't turn this into an argument. You're great, _awesome_, 'kay?"

Isabelle took a deep breath before pushing past him with a small smile. "I know I'm awesome, it's Dad who doesn't see it."

Deciding that it wasn't really worth it until after the stress of today's training was behind them, Alec rolled his eyes and ran after her.

Once they had arrived at the stadium, it took them another ten minutes to strip off their running clothes, don their skating suits, and gear up. It was 9:07 by the time they stepped on the ice, and Robert was skating in a small, stiff circle at the centre of the rink.

He wasn't mad. He was furious.

Thirty minutes into training and Alec already felt like he was going to collapse from exhaustion—admittedly, though, the fact that he hadn't gotten nearly enough nutrition for breakfast, then had stuffed half a dozen bagels down his throat in fifteen minutes, didn't help either. Robert had begun with close to a thousand suicides, only relenting when the snow on either end of the rink had formed into a sizeable mound.

Breath coming in short pants, Alec skated sluggishly to the side where his bottle of water rested. He yearned for a can or two of energy drinks, but he also knew that if he tried to snag one from his skating bag, their father would become suspicious. Fuming silently at his foolish decisions, Alec chugged half the water down before returning to the tortuous drilling.

The first time that Robert allowed them to do a mock-race came about four hours in, just past one o'clock. It wasn't the shotgun 500m, but rather the relatively more drawn-out 1500m. With his energy at a slump, Alec welcomed the longer race that he found the easiest out of the three distances. He had always found it easier to keep pace and then let it all loose as he blazed past the finish line, compared to practically killing it from start to finish during the shorter races. He liked the warm-up.

Preparing for the start, Alec looked to his sister. Isabelle was visibly wearied as well, and unlike him, she tended to perform worse on longer distances. He absently wondered if this was why Robert chose to mock the 1500m at the midpoint of the training session. "You okay, Iz?" he asked her.

"Fine." Even with her helmet on, the visor covering her eyes, Alec could tell she was lying in the tone of her voice, the way her body wasn't perfectly crouched in anticipation for the start as it normally was. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Alec grimaced. He was saved from having to reply by the sound of the shotgun, and without another look at each other, he and Isabelle were off.

Around two and a half laps into the race, Alec pulled several yards ahead of his sister, settling into an adequate pace for the next few hundred metres. He was feeling a tad more relaxed during the mock, compared to the stress of their father's earlier drills. Although he knew it was inefficient and useless, he attempted to spite Robert by swerving close to the boards and back to the inner circle after clearing each corner.

Robert noticed.

"Alec!" he yelled from the sidelines. "The hell are you doing?"

Gritting his teeth, Alec ceased his swerving, but was momentarily distracted by Isabelle whizzing by him in a blur of purple skin suit. He knew he had screwed this mock up royally, so he contented himself with riding his sister's draft for the remainder of the race, coolly gliding past the finish line behind her.

Isabelle was glaring at him reproachfully as they circled around to cool down. When he came close enough for her to hiss at him, she panted, "Do you _want _to get us incarcerated?"

Glancing over by the sidelines, Alec noticed that their father had just thrown open the arena lobby door and stalked out, presumably to find a garbage can to punch, or vent to their mother. The latter would mean interrupting Jace and Clary's training, and Alec knew how pissed Maryse could get if a routine was cut short.

"What were you doing, anyway?"

Alec had his hands on his hips, watching the ice as he skated around the rink. "I don't know, seriously."

"You know that stuff could get you disqualified."

"Only if it looks like I'm trying to stay in first. Iz, I've known the rules since I was twelve." Inside and out, he thought.

"But it looked like you were trying to kill time."

"I was," he stated bluntly. "Dad can suck it."

Isabelle sucked in a breath. "Why don't you tell him that?" she asked rhetorically as their father barged back in.

* * *

Five-thirty found Alec collapsed on the stone bench outside the arena, waiting for the rest of his family to finish training. Robert, it seemed, thought Isabelle's performances on both her mock 500m and 1000m were horribly inadequate, and wanted to run over some last-minute drills after dismissing Alec. Only after his sister's insistence that he rest, combined with his sheer exhaustion from the day's tortuous session, did he finally retire to the change rooms.

Shifting so that he was lying across the bench with his feet propped up on his skate bag, Alec folded his hands under his head. He figured it would be at least another twenty minutes before everybody emerged, so a quick power nap seemed doable.

He closed his eyes, about to doze off—

"Hold on a touch, Alexander!"

Alec was jolted back into consciousness, his limbs flailing out absurdly as he beheld the tall form of Magnus Bane jogging up to the bench from the side of the arena. He squinted, not quite believing the situation. "Wha—what are you doing here?" he asked pathetically.

Magnus crossed his arms smartly. "I was actually here about an hour ago, but I thought you might get freaked out if you saw me banging against the plexiglass in the arena."

The tone of the actor's voice was just as it had been the previous day, lightly deprecating but playful and intimate at the same time. Alec realized that for the second afternoon in a row, they were meeting outside the Ajax arena, but the tinted car from the day before was nowhere in the parking lot. "How did you get here?" he asked, sitting up to talk with Magnus more directly.

"The Toronto transit system is extremely efficient." To Alec's surprise, Magnus took another step forward and sat down right beside him so that they were a foot apart. "You wouldn't believe the effort I took to stay incognito."

Examining the actor's head-to-toe black ensemble, Alec didn't doubt him, though he imagined Magnus' height would get him noticed if anything. "So, you took the bus?"

Magnus nodded. "Jocelyn doesn't know, though. Don't tell her," he added in a conspiratorial tone.

"You sneaked away from your manager?"

"I gave her the afternoon off. She needs more fun time."

"But you're fun," Alec said before he could stop himself. "I mean, I think you'd be."

Magnus grinned. "Alexander, I'm flattered."

Eyeing the tips of his black sneakers, Alec tried to steer the conversation back to the beginning. "You didn't tell me why you're here yet."

Magnus had his hands on either side of him and he crossed his legs, the elegant pose making him look every bit the movie star. "Have you been training this whole time?"

"Today? Of course."

"I meant since you've been in Toronto."

Thrown off a little, Alec replied, "Pretty much. Except for the first night when we ate at that garden restaurant. And then when we went to see your movie."

"Haven't explored the city?"

"Um... no."

"Would you like to?"

Alec's shoulders went back in surprise. Magnus wasn't seriously asking what Alec thought he was, was he?

He decided to be blunt. "You're asking me out."

"Yes." Magnus turned so that they were staring directly at each other. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out tonight."

Alec swallowed. "With you."

"With me."

In his chest, Alec could feel his heart beating faster than it had during training.

"Keen?"

Magnus' green eyes were empty, save for a flicker of hope. Surprisingly, Alec found himself thinking of his _Cold World _character Geoffrey's cat's eyes contacts for his role as the Devil. Dismissing the image, Alec remembered Isabelle, probably finishing her training by now, and Jace and Clary, three of people he knew wouldn't have any problem. But his parents, especially Robert, were huge question marks in terms of reaction if they ever discovered. He could crash and burn, like Izzy had said earlier. He replied honestly, "I don't know."

The actor smiled softly. "I know," Magnus said.

"I'm sorry, it's just—wait, what?" Alec had been prepared to apologize, but he didn't count on that.

"I figured you'd say that." Magnus shrugged.

"You 'figured' I'd say that," repeated Alec, a little confused.

"You're thinking about your family. You told me yesterday that your parents don't know, and if you suddenly decide to step out by yourself one night, when you apparently haven't done so this week, you'd be questioned. You don't even know what I have planned, so anything you say would be a blatant lie. I'm certain there isn't a single thing about your life that your parents don't know about, seeing as how they seem to control every second of it to revolve around your skating. And yet, they are oblivious to that one unutterable secret."

Alec was sure that he was gaping, and with a start he realized that Magnus was holding his hand gently, his long, smooth fingers entwined between his own callused ones. "It's unutterable for a reason," he said.

Magnus grinned widely then. "I know you've been wary of me since that first night, Alexander. But," he whispered, leaning in closer, "please, let me make it up to you. No gimmicks, just a night out."

Staring into his eyes, their faces inches apart, Alec found that he couldn't speak, couldn't find the words to express exactly how he felt at that moment. He wanted to say how suddenly, he wasn't too worried about his parents because he knew Izzy and Jace would cover for him. He wanted to say how he had been wary, sure, nobody had ever tried to sleep with him before. That night was unexpected, and he had had the most massive headache. But his headache had gone away after leaving the penthouse, and Alec still didn't know if it was because of the change in air pressure or because the actor had genuinely struck a chord in him.

All Alec knew now was that the hotshot actor he had pictured in his head from a few days ago no longer existed, but how could he put that in words when he suddenly knew that he _liked _Magnus.

After a beat, Magnus pulled away, still grasping Alec's hand. "Don't worry about answering now."

"Magnus, I—"

A slender finger was pressed to his lip. "I know you spend your whole life going at a hundred miles an hour, but I don't want this to be rushed."

Alec blinked once, finding he had been staring for far too long.

"If you do decide to accompany me, I'll be at the same meeting spot as the other day. The Cobalt Mug, seven-thirty."

"I'm sorry I can't decide yet, Magnus, it's just that—" He was cut off as Magnus brought the hand he was holding to his lips, kissing his knuckles delicately. Alec felt his heart skip a beat, his eyelids fluttering stupidly as he inhaled sharply.

Chuckling, Magnus released his hold and stood up, taking out an iPhone in a glittering rainbow case. "Can I at least have your number so I can text you?"

Alec blushed. "Actually, I broke my phone in Michigan. I don't get a new one 'til we're back in New York."

Magnus shook his head, still chuckling as he pocketed the phone. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to wait and see." He dropped a wink, sending Alec's heart racing again, before spinning on his heel and striding down the walkway. He turned at the end, his dark form disappearing around the corner.

Alec fell back down onto the bench clumsily. A glance at his watch told him less than fifteen minutes had passed, yet it had felt so much longer. His family should be out soon, he thought.

Heart still pounding, he wondered what he was going to do next.

* * *

"Magnus Bane, what the _hell _were you thinking?!"

Sitting at the small dining table and calmly sipping his green tea, Magnus looked up at the _slam _of his suite door as Jocelyn came barging in. He raised his eyebrows innocently as she stalked across the open-floor area and into the dining area with a furious expression.

"You, sir, better have a fantastic explanation for this!"

"For what?"

Jocelyn was positively seething. "For _disappearing on me_," she hissed.

Pouting, Magnus cocked his head. "I texted you earlier, though."

"'Be back later' tells me nothing."

"It told you I'd be gone, and that I'd be back. And I am."

"And you were gone where, exactly?"

"Didn't I give you the night off?"

"You're not answering my question."

"You're not answering mine."

Jocelyn groaned, pulling out a chair and plopping down in it. She grabbed a handful of her dark red hair in a fist. "Magnus, you let me off as your manager, and I'm here as your best friend," she breathed out quietly.

"Well then," he said, taking another sip of his tea, "you should know that as my best friend you need not be privy to my whereabouts every second of every day."

Jocelyn glared at him. "I'm not leaving until you tell me where you were. And why you didn't tell me you were going there."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Do you know how Asian that makes you look?"

"I consider that a racist remark," he scoffed, his eyes still slitted.

"There's only one race, Magnus."

"Are you just going to sit there and pick on me all night?"

She only crossed her arms in response.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Magnus took the opportunity to stick his now empty mug on the room service tray. Seeing that Jocelyn was still staring stonily into space at the table, he realized there was no way he could leave that night without her noticing. He sighed loudly into the silence. "_Fine_, have it your way."

"Hmm?"

"I'll tell you where I was."

Jocelyn lit up visibly.

"Don't scream."

"You didn't go to a strip club, did you?"

"Honey, everybody knows the professional dancers come out at night." He raised his chin before he admitted the truth. "I took the bus to Ajax."

Jocelyn's jaw dropped comically. "Shit, no."

"Shit, yes."

She frowned at him. "I take it you didn't go on that little escapade just to enjoy the sights of the suburbs."

"Am I _that _transparent?"

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. "Tell me you didn't spend the entire two hours you were gone spying on him during his training."

"Technically I only watched for about an hour"—he smirked when her frown deepened—"but he was alone outside soon enough."

"And you didn't jump him?"

"I asked him out for tonight."

"_Magnus_!"

Magnus grinned. "Yes, that's my name."

"He's _Alec Lightwood_. He's an American Olympian and not even out yet, really, I shouldn't even know that he's gay! And he's Clary's friend, that's so..."

"Yes?"

She glared at him. "He didn't say yes, did he?"

He threw his hands in the air, standing up and padding angrily to the bedroom. "You said it yourself he isn't even out yet!"

"Whoa, there." He heard the scrape of the chair on the floor as she stood and followed behind him. "You seemed way too confident literally one minute ago, and now you're not?"

Magnus flopped face-down on his king-size bed. "You don't know my heart's inner turmoil," he moaned.

"Drama queen." He felt the mattress dip slightly as she sat down.

"I don't even know why I asked, it's not like he can even _say _yes. Somebody will find out!"

"Is Magnus Bane actually unsure of something?"

"Magnus Bane is thinking he should drink something."

"He's also referring to himself in the third-person—sign of craziness."

"_Fuck_!" he yelled into the sheets.

Jocelyn patted him on his un-gelled hair. "Let it out, let it out," she cooed.

"You're mocking me," he mumbled.

She was silent for a beat before saying, "If I remember correctly, the last time you were this stressed out was when the dry cleaner lost your suit."

"That was two weeks ago, and I was meeting Luke for a press conference but then he left early 'cause he didn't want to be late. Your boyfriend stood me up, a distinct possibility tonight."

"What?"

"I told Alec I'd be at The Cobalt Mug at seven-thirty, and I'm actually going to be playing the _waiting game _because he might not even come!" He groaned, flipping over so that he could face his friend. "What the hell is happening to me?"

Jocelyn smiled gently. "It's a first date—a potential one, anyway—and you're just anxious."

"It's just a _date_, and I've never been anxious," he huffed. "That's so _common_."

"Well, maybe when you get off that pedestal, O Magnificent One, you'll realize that this might not be just any date."

He couldn't think of anything to say, and Jocelyn took advantage of his silence. "Magnus, you're constantly picking up whatever pretty face passes you by—don't give me that look, you know it's true. And those all end up the same way: by morning, they're gone. You don't remember them, they're probably too drunk to realize they bedded an Oscar-winning actor. But that's just it, Magnus, you deserve so much more than a paltry one-night stand.

"I'm not trying to jump the gun here," she continued, "but I've seen you fall in love before. You don't half-ass anything, and you certainly poured everything you had into that relationship, which maybe was a bad thing in retrospect. But you've never taken public transit just to ask somebody out."

"It was pretty gross."

"I believe that you believe so."

Magnus searched Jocelyn's face for any hint that she was pulling his leg. Finding no trace of ill will, he sighed deeply. "It's never been this hard before."

"Don't I know it. Remember, ten years?"

"It's never been _this bad_."

"Magnus." Jocelyn's eyes pleaded with him. "It's already seven. In half an hour, an Olympic athlete may or may not be turned away from a private bar. If you ask me, poor Alec doesn't deserve that kind of embarrassment."

"But..." Magnus wanted to protest again, but he knew she was right. He thought of a face with pale skin and ocean-blue eyes, dark hair and a toned body. He recalled how, when he had kissed Alec's hand earlier, the skater had wavered ever so slightly, betraying the fact that he'd never been so intimate with somebody before. How stupid was he to have tried to seduce him on the rooftop and in the TIFF theatre, to have assumed the skater to be like all the others.

He knew that he'd never forgive himself if he caused Alec even more unhappiness than he already had.

Magnus sighed. "But what am I going to _wear_?"

* * *

In the end, he went with something simple enough to not attract attention during the night, yet classy enough that he didn't feel as ragged as that afternoon. Dark skinny jeans with tan suede shoes, a—slightly—shimmering purple dress shirt under a black sport jacket, and the only flashy thing of his outfit that could possibly make someone look his way: a rainbow scarf with his initials tastefully sewn onto the corner.

Tucked into one of the end tables of The Cobalt Mug's patio, Magnus scanned the passers-by through the mesh screens for any sign of the speed skater. A quick glance at his phone told him it was only seven-thirty-three, which meant he still had twelve minutes to go before his allotted waiting time was up.

Alec probably forgot, he told himself, not wanting to accept the fact that the skater might just not want to be associated with him in public. Granted, the few other times they may have been spotted together on the other two nights, they were in a group. Even tonight, Magnus was prepared to be on red-alert for any paparazzi that could snap an incriminating photo of the two of them alone, strolling along the streets of downtown Toronto together.

That is, if Alec even showed up.

Sighing, Magnus sipped at his water, assuring himself that if he was going to spend the night alone, he'd buy himself a few shots to dull his mind. He was just about to text Jocelyn to pick him up at nine when the clamorous blaring of a car horn had him jerking his head up sharply.

Across the street, a station wagon was abruptly stopped right before the crosswalk, apparently having braked to narrowly avoid hitting a pedestrian. A second look at said pedestrian told Magnus that he didn't have to text Jocelyn after all.

* * *

_A/N: I'm so sorry that life's been crazy lately, but I'll try to have Chapter 6 up as soon as I can! In the meantime, perhaps you can drop a review? I know you readers are out there, my followers' alerts don't lie!_

_Cheers! :)_


	6. Chapter 6

This was a horrible idea.

Eh, maybe not. How horrible could a night out on the town turn out to be? This is _Toronto_ for crying out loud, it's like a smaller, more Canadian New York City. There was a distinctly high possibility for extremely fun times tonight.

But then again...

Alec gritted his teeth in frustration. With his mind distracted, he tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. Managing to catch his footing, he paused a moment to calm himself. People could walk around him.

_Breathe_, he told himself. _Just breathe_. Really, he knew he was being ridiculous. This whole situation was absolutely insane. It was nothing more than two guys meeting each other for a night out, except Magnus had made himself abundantly clear that this was a date.

An actual _date_.

Alec shook his head, continuing along the sidewalk as the neon of the city slowly began to blink on in the dimming twilight. He still couldn't admit to himself that he was going on a date for the first time in his life—that group outing with Jace and the ditsy girls when they were fourteen hardly counted. Secondly, he found it difficult to believe that he was going on a date with _Magnus Bane_.

Magnus, the Oscar-winning actor who just five days earlier he had thought to be a total narcissist and airhead, had come all the way to his training facilities to ask him out. Alec was nearly certain that he wouldn't be stood up tonight, purely based on that fact. He also knew that any lingering doubt could have been avoided if he hadn't broken his damn phone in Michigan. Texting would have made this so much easier: "Let's go out tonight." "Really?" "Why not?" "Okay."

Although, he doubted he'd ever be that ready to accept romantic gestures so quickly, except of course, if he was caught off-guard.

His heart fluttered again as he thought about the way Magnus had kissed his hand that afternoon.

Attempting to dismiss the thought, Alec tried to focus on simply putting on foot in front of the other. There was really no use worrying about what had happened earlier when the real problem was what would unfold _tonight_.

There were so many possibilities—for one, it was very likely that tonight could go badly. Horribly. He had no idea what they were going to do, where they were going to go... True, the chances of himself being recognized were slim, but Magnus drew attention like a lighthouse in the fog. Alec only prayed that the actor hadn't decided to wear anything _too _eye-catching.

There was also the very distinct chance that Magnus would find him exceedingly boring and leave Alec stranded in the middle of the city with no wishes to ever see him again.

That could happen.

Alec worked to even out his breathing, recognizing the oncoming intersection as the last one before The Cobalt Mug. And _shit_, there was the blue patio itself across the street. The mesh screens were as opaque as ever; Alec tried not to picture Magnus inside, watching him.

He tried to focus on getting to the intersection, being a few yards from the edge of the sidewalk. The red hand was blinking, so he probably only had a couple seconds to dash across. He had done this thousands of times before—one does not live in Manhattan and not jaywalk from time to time—and this time should have been no different.

Taking long strides so he could get to the street, Alec took in his surroundings quickly in a split-second. Everything was exactly the same as it had been two days ago, from the colour of the clear evening sky to the clusters of pedestrians on the sidewalks to the spurts of downtown Toronto's rush-hour traffic—

_BEEP!_

A grey station wagon screeched to a noisy halt right before Alec stepped off the sidewalk. Cursing inwardly, he tried to glare at the driver behind the tinted windows before the car hopped into motion and turned onto the next street.

Alec gritted his teeth in anxiety, now forced to wait and cross the street with the crowd. Once on the other side, he made his way to the Cobalt Mug entrance, all the while wondering if his second near-death experience of the day was a sign from the universe that this night was bound to go wrong.

The hostess guarding the patio opening was as stoic as ever. "Name?" she droned.

"Alec," he replied, adding stupidly, "Lightwood."

"Hmm." The hostess dragged her finger across the iPad on her podium. "You're here, at the bottom, though. Seems like someone added you in last minute."

Alec blinked.

"Well, you going in?"

Scowling at the hostess, Alec pushed his way past the mesh screens into the patio, forcing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. He had barely been in for five seconds before a familiar voice cut through the dull buzz of the restaurant patrons:

"Alec, darling! Over here!"

The blood rushed to his face as Alec felt the eyes of those nearby turn towards him. Hurriedly, he shuffled to the table at the side where Magnus was standing holding a champagne glass. "Hi," he mumbled, placing his hands on the wooden tabletop.

"'Hi?' No, 'Oh, it's so marvellously pleasant to meet you here'?"

"Um..."

"I'm kidding, darling," Magnus smiled, placing his empty glass down and putting a hand—simultaneously drawing Alec's eye towards the actor's lower half—on his hip. "In all honesty, I was wondering if you were even going to show up."

Alec bit his lip. "Yeah, me too."

Magnus chuckled. "So, then, this is your first date. And not just with me, but as in, _ever_."

Alec nodded, heart beat starting to pick up.

"Well, I'm _flattered_."

"And you really didn't think I was gonna come?"

"Strange choice of words, but yes, I was prepared for the worst." Magnus smirked. "You're full of surprises, Superstar."

Wrinkling his nose, Alec met the actor's eyes and saw the raised eyebrows on Magnus' face. "But you're glad I'm here," Alec said warily.

"Honey, of _course _I'm glad. Delighted, in fact."

The same look of cautious playfulness and honest care was on Magnus' face, and Alec found himself more eager than ever to trust him and push aside any previous anxiety. "Delighted, huh?"

"Delighted. Although I must say, I was hoping you'd go for a blue shirt tonight."

Alec pulled at his black sweater. "I, uh... I wasn't sure what we'd be d-doing tonight."

"You're not agoraphobic, are you?"

"What?" Alec blinked, wondering if he heard correctly.

Magnus cocked his head. "You said you haven't explored the city yet, and if you only have one night in Toronto, we _have _to hit up their number one tourist destination."

"Well, we were at TIFF the other night..."

"Alec, darling, that was _one _theatre. We're going to the Tower tonight."

Alec sucked in a sharp breath. "The CN Tower?"

"Yup." Magnus smiled, pulling out two plastic cards from the inside of his black jacket. "Luke and Jocelyn were supposed to use these before the end of the festival, but Jocelyn said they'd never find a free night for both of them."

Alec eyed the passes uncertainly. "But, the CN Tower, it's so... Like, I don't know..."

Magnus chuckled softly. "Don't worry, Superstar. It's Thursday night in the middle of September, _nobody _is going to notice us."

"R-really?"

"Positive. Well, maybe somebody will spot me, I mean come _on_."

Alec laughed, feeling the anxiety seeping away. "So, CN Tower. Have you gone before?"

"Once, during TIFF last year when I was here for _Downtrodden_." Magnus narrowed his eyes. "Although, I don't see why we're still standing here talking about it when we should be going."

"Oh, I didn't mean— Ah!" Alec nearly squeaked when Magnus grabbed his wrist suddenly and pulled him towards the exit.

Pitching out onto the sidewalk, Alec managed to jerk his wrist away as Magnus buttoned his dark jacket. It wasn't that he didn't _mind _the contact—he just wasn't entirely certain that the actor's paparazzi were not staking the area.

The air had cooled somewhat during his time in the patio, and the cloudless sky was a deep blue. Alec figured it was probably almost eight o'clock, and the streets of downtown Toronto were no more packed than they were on his way over. He managed to relax slightly, hoping that Magnus was right and the chances of them being recognized tonight were nil.

"Alright, Alexander?" Magnus' voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Um, do you know where we're going?"

"Of course." Magnus started an easy walk, indicating with a nod of his head that Alec should follow. "And you still haven't answered my question from earlier: You're not scared of heights, are you?"

"No, no." Falling into step with Magnus, Alec found the ease with which he matched the actor's long strides surprising, but welcoming. Perhaps this date—oh Lord, he was actually _on the date now—_would turn out good. Well. Maybe.

_Come on, Lightwood. You can _do _this_.

* * *

The lobby of the CN Tower was not as busy as Alec had expected. Only a couple dozen people seemed to be milling around, and they didn't seem to be the least bit interested as he and Magnus strode in.

Magnus, it turned out, proved to be an amicable walking companion. The fifteen minute trip from the Cobalt Mug to the CN Tower was pleasant, and Alec's nerves never got the better of him—not even when Magnus forcibly grasped his shoulder to pull him back from the curb, preventing yet another near-collision from a jaywalking attempt.

"Good Lord Alexander, you're going to cut your career short without even realizing it!" Magnus had proclaimed much too loudly, causing some nearby pedestrians to glance over.

Alec had ducked his head, desperately hoping that the pedestrians weren't avid movie-goers or Olympic enthusiasts. Thankfully, nobody had said anything. "Magnus..." he had whispered.

"Hmm?" Magnus had smirked then with a knowing look in his eye, stemming Alec's nerves.

The rest of the walk had carried on without incident, and—Alec still wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing—without much conversation. He figured Magnus would more than make up for it during the remainder of the night.

"Elevator's over there," Magnus was saying now, jerking Alec back to the present. He noticed that the actor had unbuttoned his sport jacket, allowing a shimmering rainbow scarf to flow across his torso. Magnus, unfortunately, noticed the path his eyes were tracing. "Over _there_, sweetie."

Alec blushed, beginning to make his way over to a central wall set in with a couple elevators and hoping that he could forget about his little mishap—but it wasn't _his _fault that Magnus was so damn attractive in his unusually plain outfit—and focus on going up the Tower in one piece.

With Magnus behind him, Alec paused at the back of a small cluster of people set to travel up the right-most elevator. A vested tour guide standing in front of the elevator doors was busy answering the questions of some European tourists. As they waited for the lift to arrive, Alec thought he saw the guide drop a wink at them, the smile plastered on her face widening ever so slightly in their direction. Turning around, he noticed the corner of Magnus'—_was that lip gloss?_—lip quirked up. "Uh, do you know her?" he asked.

"Nope." Magnus' grin widened. "Though she's probably one of Luke's friends."

In the silence that followed, Alec couldn't help but feel a touch of uncertainty creep into the pit of his stomach. "Sure you don't know her?" he furthered.

Magnus laughed softly in response, leaning down to whisper, "If you're thinking what I _know _you are, I only have eyes for one person tonight."

Alec felt the blood rush to his face. "Well, uh... Okay."

"'Okay'?" Magnus' fingers touched Alec's wrist lightly. "I just want you to enjoy yourself tonight."

Thankfully, the elevator chose that moment to arrive and save Alec from having to reply. As the group filed in, he thought he noticed the tour guide angling herself just so to allow him and Magnus a clear path towards the back of the lift, away from the eyes of the tourists. Once everybody was inside, she pressed a button at the side to close the doors, and the elevator shot up.

Pressed close together at the back as the guide rattled out some statistics about the Tower, Alec felt Magnus shift slightly to lean against the wall. "Remind me to remind Luke to thank her later," he said, gesturing with his chin towards the guide.

Alec looked at the ceiling, nodding absently.

"You alright?"

He nodded again, realizing that he was horribly inadequate at elevator conversations. Racking his brain for something pertinent to discuss, he settled on their current location. "So, we're going to the top, then?"

"If you don't mind my having planned this out, we'll eat dinner first," Magnus said. "I figured even if we join the post-dinner rush on the Lookout floor, we might be able to get away without being seen."

"Oh." Alec wasn't sure why he hadn't expected dinner. "Sounds, uh, g-good. Yeah, good. Dinner then top, yup."

"You're fricking adorable when you're flustered."

Alec thought his heart skipped a beat. "I'm w-what?"

"Superstar Lightwood," Magnus said in reply. "On your first date. _Adorable_."

Alec couldn't help the smile that began to spread across his face. "Should I, um, thank you?"

Magnus' answering laugh rang throughout the small elevator, and luckily the tourists were too engrossed in whatever the guide was saying to look behind them. Alec was grateful that they could keep this little moment to themselves.

The elevator began to slow to a stop several seconds later, and the guide briefed the passengers on their altitude before pressing a button and allowing the doors to slide open. As they all spilled out, Alec saw Magnus quickly nod to the guide before she stepped back into the lift. "So being an actor really does have its perks?" Alec teased, riding along the high from the exchange in the elevator.

"Among other things," smiled Magnus.

The elevator had opened out onto a carpeted landing, spanning a small lobby that held two large entrances to deeper rooms. With a jolt, Alec was reminded of the garden-themed restaurant they had eaten at on his first night in Toronto—coincidentally, the same night on which he had first met Magnus. The entrance they made their way to was headed by large swirling letters spelling out '360 Restaurant'. Within, Alec could make out a span of tables lining a wall of glass windows, and beyond those, the sprawling evening cityscape.

"...Garroway has a reservation," Magnus was saying to the host.

Alec studied his sneakered feet to avoid making eye contact with the man at the podium. Despite the light atmosphere from the elevator, he still wasn't keen on letting everyone know who Magnus Bane was taking to dinner.

While the host ran inside to presumably check on a table, Magnus leaned over to whisper to Alec, "Don't worry, sweetie. They'll keep everything on the down-low, Luke made sure of it."

Alec smiled in response, moved by the actor's efforts to remain as inconspicuous as possible. "You're doing all this, but... You'd rather be noticed. That's you, right?"

Before Magnus had a chance to reply, the host returned and told them to follow him to their table. Magnus took Alec's wrist and squeezed it quickly before pacing after the host. With his heart doing somersaults in his chest, Alec followed.

The table that had been reserved for Luke was set further away from the main entrance where the bulk of the diners were seated. Closer to the bar, it provided a touch of privacy—not that that was necessary. At eleven hundred feet in the air, in a constant state of steady rotation, the panoramic view of the city provided throughout the restaurant drew all eyes toward the windows.

Taking his seat across from Magnus at their crisp white-linened table, the reality of actually being on a dinner date crashed down on Alec like a tidal wave. While Magnus became the main spokesperson to their waitress, Alec remained silent, fidgeting with his tee-peed napkin and only speaking to order a glass of water to drink.

When the waitress left, Magnus folded his hands on the table and nudged Alec underneath with his foot, dragging his attention away from the cutlery. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Alec glanced up, meeting Magnus'—eyeliner-ringed, he noticed absently—eyes. "Uh, no." He bit his lip. "Well, it's just th-that..."

"You're nervous."

"Yeah."

Magnus reached over so his long fingers just touched the tips of Alec's. "Would it be pointless of me to say that you need not be?"

Alec let out a breath in a short chuckle, his hand seeming to heat up from the skin contact. "Thanks, again. For trying to keep this under wraps, I mean."

"Honey, you're worth it."

Alec knew he had a stupid smile on his face this time. Not knowing how to reply, he went for what seemed to be the main issue of the moment. "Um, aren't we supposed to have menus?"

"Oh, no, Luke had the fixed menu arranged with his reservation."

"Fixed menu?"

"The good one, too, apparently. Four courses, top-of-the-line cuisine courtesy of Toronto's finest chefs. And on a revolving restaurant eleven hundred feet in the air, to boot."

The calibre of this date felt stupendously high in that instant. "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds like you—I mean, _Luke_, planned this out nicely," Alec bumbled.

Magnus turned his—no, it wasn't _smouldering—_gaze in the direction their waiter had disappeared to. "That means he probably already paid, too, the bastard."

"Oh!" Alec suddenly felt incredibly stupid to have forgotten about cheques. "Um, I have my wallet here with me!"

Magnus waved the remark away nonchalantly. "_I _asked _you _here, remember? And besides, it seems Mr. Garroway has the meal covered, so add that to the elevation up, and it looks like _he _took us both out."

A sudden thought occurred to Alec then. "Luke, though, he's okay with you taking me out?"

"Luke? Oh, the man has no idea." At the widening of Alec's eyes, Magnus smiled and added, "Only Jocelyn knows, and as far as I know, _you _didn't tell anybody."

"No, I didn't. For, uh, obvious reasons."

At that moment, the waitress arrived with a glass of iced water for Alec and a margarita for Magnus. After setting their drinks down, she moved aside to allow a second waiter to place bowls of salad and a plate of some cheese and cold cuts before them.

When they had left, Magnus made a grand sweeping gesture over the food. "Bon appetit," he said.

Chuckling, Alec speared his salad and started eating. As he chewed, allowing the strange mushroom flavour to mingle with his taste buds, he rooted around in his brain for something that seemed appropriate for a dinner-date conversation. He decided to settle on something familiar. "So, I, um, never got a chance to talk about your movie."

"My movie?" Magnus said, a piece of cheese halfway to his mouth.

"Yeah, _Cold World_." Alec swallowed down his salad. "I mean, I guess we kind of talked about it"—he could have sworn he saw Magnus wince slightly, probably from the memory of their bathroom encounter—"but I never really told you how great it was."

"You thought it was great?" _Good Lord, only Magnus could look attractive while chewing and smirking at the same time._ "Thank you, then."

"You're welcome." And now that topic was exhausted, albeit with an awfully awkward conclusion.

Magnus, though, seemed to have another idea for steering the conversation along. "How's your training coming along?" he asked.

Skating was, at the moment, the last thing on Alec's mind, especially when he was on his first date. A date with Magnus Bane, no less. Taken by surprise, he nearly bit his tongue. "Uh, fine, fine."

"Just 'fine'?"

"Yeah, it's all good."

"Alexander." Magnus gave him a withering look. "Your experiences in training for the Olympics cannot be adequately described by the word '_fine_'."

Alec stared at his salad, trying to twirl a leaf around his fork. "Well, it's speed skating. Short track, right? So my dad's been running a lot of power drills with Izzy and I to build our sprinting strength."

"See, this is good." Magnus looked pleased. "Is that it?"

"Power drills, stuff to build stamina, core exercises..."

"Sounds like things a personal trainer from L.A. would do."

"What? Oh, ha, right." _Shit, I'm really doing this, aren't I? _"And then we have some mock races sometimes. To practice, and then Dad times us and calls us out on mistakes, how we can improve."

Magnus smiled brightly then. "Like a rehearsal!"

Alec grinned. "Yeah, like a rehearsal, I guess."

"See? Our lives aren't that much different." Magnus furrowed his brow. "Well, from a commoner's perspective, at least."

Alec had chosen that time to take a sip of his water, and he almost choked at hearing Magnus' comment.

"Wonderful execution of a spit-take there." Magnus grabbed his napkin suddenly, reaching over the table to dab at Alec's mouth. "Good thing the paparazzi didn't catch that."

Alec, meanwhile, had frozen in place at the gesture. He watched Magnus wipe his lips, then his chin, before pulling away to finish his salad. _Have I been blushing this entire night? _he thought to himself. "Um, thanks," he managed to say.

"My pleasure, Superstar," Magnus said with a small, endearing smile that sent Alec's heart racing. "Hey, you didn't wrinkle your nose this time," he added.

"What?" Alec asked, confused.

"Whenever somebody talks about you and your skating, but specifically, your _achievements_, or whenever they use that nickname, you wrinkle your nose," the actor said kindly. "So I'm trying to stick to your real name. I do, though, think the nose thing is insanely cute."

Alec coloured again at the last comment. "I, uh, never realized I did that."

"I'm surprised nobody's pointed it out yet. They probably didn't want you to stop, it's so damn adorable."

The waiters returned at that moment, clearing away the appetizer plates to set down two platters of the main course on the stark white linen. Alec took the break to the gather his thoughts and try to wrap his head around the amount of times the Magnus Bane had called him cute in that conversation.

When they had left, Magnus raised his margarita glass. "Cheers, Alexander."

Alec shot his hand out a little too quickly—a fact that wasn't lost on Magnus either, judging by the actor's knowing smirk—to grab his water. "Cheers," he said.

* * *

Luke, it seemed, did have everything paid for in advance; a conspiratorial wink from their waitress when Magnus enquired about the bill explained everything.

And even though he knew that Magnus was only interested in him—the earlier incident with the tour guide said that much—Alec couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy at the string of X's Magnus had added to the waitress's autographed napkin.

Magnus, though, had whispered in his ear as they exited the restaurant, causing a shiver to run down Alec's back: "Only you, remember?"

That was _definitely_ reassuring.

A second elevator ride took them further up from the 360 Restaurant to the Lookout Floor, opening out onto another carpeted landing. The patterned flooring ran around a central wall splattered with colourful murals of the city and photographs of the Tower through the years. On the other side of the floor, the glass windows of the Tower spanned the floor to provide a panoramic view of downtown Toronto at night.

Magnus nudged Alec towards one of the less busy areas and leaned against the railing by the window. "See those floodlights?" Magnus asked, pointing to a brightly lit part of the city that seemed to buzz with energy.

"I'm guessing that's the Festival."

Magnus nodded. "If we were there, we'd see the Tower lit up in orange—they do it for TIFF every year. If you ask me, it makes this thing look like a giant creamsicle."

"Creamsicle?"

"Oh, don't tell me you don't know what that is."

Alec blushed deeply. "I, uh..."

"Goodness. It's ice cream in a popsicle." Magnus spun Alec by the shoulders and gently pushed him away from the window. The actor guided him towards a set of stairs that led down to another floor. "What did your parents do, raise you in a bubble?"

"What? No!"

"You've never had a _creamsicle_!"

Alec glared at the actor in mock indignation. "I doubt I'm missing out on much," he said. _God, is this what it's like to flirt? Talking about popsicles?_

"You'll regret having said that," Magnus quipped. "We're getting creamsicles next time."

Arriving at the end of the stairs, Alec felt a queasy feeling begin to set in. _Next time_, Magnus had said. Going on this date tonight was decisive enough, what with it being the first type of any romantic endeavour Alec had attempted in earnest. But the idea of there being a _next time_, especially when TIFF was over in a couple days and they'd both be leaving—

No. He wouldn't think about that, not now. Not when he was supposed to be enjoying himself.

"Wow, it's even more deserted than I thought." Magnus was walking forward with his hands on his hips.

Alec sucked in a breath as he made his way over to the actor, finding himself perched at the edge of the carpet with dozens of square yards of Glass Floor before him.

The information signs posted proclaimed the glass to be several feet thick, capable of withstanding the weight of hippos, and the lack of tourists on a Thursday night in September was more than enough to convince Alec of his safety. What really caused his breath to catch was Magnus leaping onto the glass with a shout.

Alec's jaw dropped in half-amusement and half-horror at the actor's sudden childishness. Collapsing onto the floor, spread-eagled, Magnus cried, "Look at me, Toronto! Bow down before Magnus the Magnificent!"

Glancing at the surprisingly unruffled security guard who was stationed at the end of the floor, Alec hissed at his... companion? No, date. _Shit, right, this is a date_. "Magnus!" _Oh God, is this actually the first time I'm saying his name to him? _"Hey, Magnus!"

The actor sprung up sharply with a manic grin on his face, the front of his shirt slightly rumpled, and whipped off his shimmering rainbow scarf. "Sweetie, what are you still doing over there?"

"What? Wait—Ah!" Magnus had swung his scarf around Alec's back and dragged him onto the Glass Floor unceremoniously.

"Still not afraid of heights?"

Alec laughed, swept up in the insanity of it all. Taking in the bird's eye view of the city below him, dazzling and illuminated in the nighttime, he replied giddily, "Definitely not!"

Magnus threw back his head in laughter, simultaneously pulling Alec closer and causing him to stumble slightly. As Alec fell forward, he grabbed onto Magnus's shoulders to steady himself. Standing upright, and still in the midst of a fit of giggles, Alec found himself mere inches away and staring into the actor's eyes.

Alec's breath hitched, causing his laughter to subside but leaving a dumb grin behind. He continued to gaze into Magnus' eyes without saying anything, content with their position. _This, this is nice_, he thought, several hundred metres in the air and caught in the arms of Magnus Bane. _Nice_.

Magnus, meanwhile, had clasped onto the wrists which held his shoulders, locking Alec into place. A silence wrapped around them like a blanket, covering them from the rest of the world as they held each other in quiet comfort. Magnus broke it ever so slightly, breathing out in a whisper, "Alexander..."

And then a loud gasp shattered everything.

Alec watched as in one move, Magnus stepped away and pulled back his scarf, seeming to sigh inwardly before straightening up again and switching to a cheerful facade as he turned to the young couple to their right. Trying to melt into whatever background a glass floor offered, Alec balefully regarded the young man and woman who looked about to faint.

"Hello, lovelies," Magnus said, smiling widely and spreading his hands, now fully geared into his role of actor meeting the fans.

"Oh my God, _hi_!" the girl squealed.

The boy with her, whose arm she had in a death grip, was equally ecstatic. "Hi Mr. Bane! We are your _biggest _fans!"

"I cannot believe you're actually here right now!"

"Like, really here!"

"We, like, actually came to Toronto just in case we could see you!"

"And we saw your movie, oh my _God_, it was amazing!"

Magnus laughed then, and Alec realized with a jolt that he could now tell the difference between the actor's fake and real amusement. It was incredibly jarring. "Well, I hope you're loving the CN Tower just as much," Magnus said.

"It's great!" the girl cried.

At that moment, the boy pulled out his phone. "Can we please take a picture with you?"

_Well, at least they're polite_.

"Of course."

The couple squealed, and Alec had to resist the urge to stick his fingers into his ears.

"Hey, can your friend take the picture for us?"

It took Alec a second to realize that the boy was referring to him. Upon looking at Magnus, he found an imploring and apologetic look in the actor's eyes, one that expressed the regret for interrupting their date and the need for treating his fans with the utmost care. "Yeah, sure," Alec found himself saying.

"Oh my God, thank you!"

Alec took the phone from the boy and waited for Magnus to seat himself and the fans on the floor in an obviously cliche tourist pose, the actor in the middle with an arm thrown around each of them.

After the flash went off, the boy bounced up and swiped on the phone screen see the picture Alec took. "God, he's hot," the boy whispered before taking the phone. "Thanks so much!"

Speechless, Alec watched Magnus hug the couple before striding off the Glass Floor and indicating with a jerk of his head for Alec to follow. As they made their way back to the elevators, Alec heard continued squeals coming from behind him. "Well, that was interesting," he said to break the silence.

"Interesting?" Magnus paused, halfway up the stairs. "Alexander, I am deeply sorry for having put you in that position. You have no idea how hard I was hoping that they weren't avid Olympic followers."

Alec bit his lip, humbled by the actor's sincerity. "It's not your fault, they're your fans."

"Tonight was supposed to be about you."

"It was." Alec felt his face heating up again. "Is. It's not over yet."

Magnus only smiled in response, continuing up the stairs with a barely-heard "Oh, Alexander" at the top.

The elevator ride down to the ground floor was fuller than the ride up, what with the bulk of tourists leaving the Tower near closing time. The tour guide from before was accompanying them again, running the same routine to get them as close to the back as possible. A crying toddler rid the need for conversation, but Alec was nonetheless satisfied with being pressed against Magnus' hip.

And maybe he was being a little too hopeful, but he was sure that Magnus was leaning ever so slightly against him.

The rush out of the elevator through the lobby ensured that they had an unassuming exit out of the Tower, Magnus leading them a small overhang that was bathed in orange light from the Tower's TIFF illumination. Alec felt the cool night air hit him soundly, welcome after the eventful past few hours. "Well, um..." He wasn't exactly sure how to say it properly, not after such a night. "Thanks, really."

Magnus chuckled. "All I hope is that you believe your first date went fabulously."

"It did, thanks to you."

"So I made the right choice in taking that dingy bus to Ajax this afternoon?"

"For sure," Alec replied.

The actor cocked his head to the side. "Are you going to the Awards Ceremony?"

Caught off-guard, Alec blinked twice before replying. "The what?"

"Awards Ceremony. It's TIFF's final gala, where they present the Audience Choice Award, among others. Since myself and Luke are the only big-ticket members of the _Cold World _cast and crew here, our table is nearly empty. It's just us and Jocelyn, and I know she's planning on inviting Clary and Jace. In which case, I wish to invite you and your sister to join us."

Alec turned Magnus' words over in his head. "You're asking me out again?"

"To the gala, yes. It's in two days, and since I have a TV interview tomorrow night I can't do anything, and you probably need to make up for ditching your family to come here."

Alec winced, thinking about how he was going to explain this to Isabelle. She and Jace and Clary probably covered for him with their parents, but without really knowing where he had disappeared to following their return from Ajax, he imagined Izzy would have some choice words for him.

Still, he was excited at the prospect of seeing Magnus again in a couple days. "And the gala," he wanted to clarify, "it's a red carpet thing? With cameras and that stuff?

Magnus rolled his eyes with a small smile. "Don't worry, you'll be able to walk in behind the paps, and anyway, they'll just be focused on the actors on the carpet. It would be infinitely more interesting if you came, since I already know the big winner."

Alec grinned. "You're definitely not modest."

Magnus' eyes twinkled. "Is that a yes?"

* * *

Trying his best to shut the door quietly, Alec turned the deadbolt and toed off his sneakers before tiptoeing into the Penhallows' condo.

He didn't get farther than the living room before he spotted his sister, cross-legged on the sofa with a stern look on her face. "Clary got a text from her mom, half an hour ago, before she went to bed," Isabelle said, one eyebrow raised sharply. "Jocelyn knew, of course, and Magnus somehow told her everything about tonight, including what he asked you."

Alec froze. "Wait, Izzy—"

"Oh, relax Alec, we didn't tell Mom and Dad." His sister's eyes widened suddenly in slight excitement. "But first thing tomorrow morning you're giving me _every detail_."

"Yeah, fine. It's late, Iz, and we have training tomorrow. Let's just go to sleep."

"Of course."

"'Kay. Night." Alec was making his way to his and Jace's room when he heard Isabelle call out quietly:

"But we are _definitely _going to that gala."

* * *

_A/N: It's been a while since I've gone up the CN Tower, so my descriptions are based off some shoddy memories, sorry!_

_As always, your reviews are greatly appreciated! (Yes, I see you, you silent followers. :) )_

_Cheers! (And Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians.)_


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